


You Have The Sun, I Have The Moon

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Miscommunication, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: Michael Clifford hasalwayswanted a soulmate.He’s yet to meet them, but he knows when he does, nobody will compare in his eyes, and nobody will captivate him like his soulmate does. His biggest dream in life is to have someone, someone bound to him through a divine, cosmic destiny, and to give them all of the love he possibly can. It’s the one thing in life he knows, without a doubt, he’ll be great at.-When Michael finds his soulmate in the clumsy boy from the deli, he thinks it's going to be smooth sailing from there. Fate, on the other hand, has a far bumpier road in store for them.





	You Have The Sun, I Have The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _I Have the Moon_ by The Magnetic Fields 
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my amazing beta [Maia](http://reversecow.tumblr.com) for helping me fine tune this fic. You're the tits.

Michael Clifford has  _ always _ wanted a soulmate. 

He’s yet to meet them, but he knows when he does, nobody will compare in his eyes, and nobody will captivate him like his soulmate does. His biggest dream in life is to have someone, someone bound to him through a divine, cosmic destiny, and to give them all of the love he possibly can. It’s the one thing in life he knows, without a doubt, he’ll be great at. 

Like everybody in this crazy, Fate-obsessed society, Michael has a few ideas on whom his soulmate might be. Of course, like most people, his guesses  _ aren’t _ going to be his soulmate. 

There was Eddie in ninth grade. The two of them volunteered often to stay back in band class last period to help stack chairs. They talked about a lot of things, always making each other laugh, and Michael was  _ certain _ that his forever was wrapped in his classmates crooked smile and thick-rimmed glasses. Though when they high-fived one night after a flawless recital, the truth came out that they’d never be more than just really good friends. 

Just after graduating high school, Michael met Geordie, a lifeguard at the public pool over the summer. She was reserved, kept mostly to herself, but when she occasionally came out of her shell to make a joke, it had Michael in stitches at how clever and well-timed it was. Michael spent nearly every day at the rec center, crossing his fingers that they’d be soulmates, feeling like he just  _ knew _ that they were. When he almost drowned a week before school started and Geordie’s arms around his waist, pulling him to safety didn’t make his skin tingle and light up in a colored mark, he was forced to face the reality that they just weren’t destined to be.

It wasn’t as disappointing as Michael thought it’d be, though. He wants to meet his soulmate, to be with them, more than anything in the world, but he doesn’t want it to be just anyone - he wants it to be the person that the Fates created perfectly to complete him. 

A lifeguard, or a close friend, while Michael enjoyed knowing them in the moment, weren’t going to be his forever, simply because they weren’t made for him, which is exactly what Michael’s searching for. And he’ll find them when the time is perfect. 

Of course, just because he knows he won’t meet them a moment too soon, doesn’t mean he won’t be speculating possibilities down to the very last moment. 

First, there’s Ashton. He’s an Art Major, Michael assumes. He’s always got some sort of canvas in his arms as he walks cross campus, and he just about lives in the art building, spending all of his free time either hidden inside doing Fate knows what, or just outside the building eating his bagged lunch as he sits against the large oak tree that all the paired soulmates have taken to carving their initials into. 

Michael not-so-secretly can’t wait until he gets the opportunity to do the same with his future soulmate. 

In his first few semesters, Michael had been struggling to scrap together extra cash each month when his meal plan inevitably ran out, and he’d be damned if he got a job just for the extra few dollars he needed. So he asked around and was recommended to the Art building, where they were in desperate need of models willing to do semi-nude posing for the students. 

That’s where he first met Ashton: in an Advanced Drawing and Painting The Human Body class. His third week modeling, Michael had been walking around after the students left to see what they’d drawn, and he came across one that was created using oil pastels, and everything had a soft edge. Michael had looked downright angelic. 

The next time he came in, he looked for the easel, and was surprised and enchanted to see someone that should’ve been modelling himself. After class, Michael forwent putting his shirt back on to approach the artist. They exchanged names, and would have shaken hands were it not for the pastel covering Ashton’s. 

It’s been a year and a half since then and Michael’s yet to touch him, but when they talk after class, or catch up under the oak tree outside the art building, Michael longs to grip his bicep, for no other reason than to see if there’s a tingle under his skin and a color left behind. 

He likes Ashton. He’s cute and talented, and always gives Michael compliments. Whenever they talk, Ashton’s hazel eyes are full of sincerity, and every picture he paints makes Michael look nothing less than heavenly. Once, he gave Michael a ride home, and he almost thanked Ashton with a hand on his upper arm, but a horn behind them honked and Michael rushed out so Ashton could get moving. 

Michael spent that night glaring at his hand for not being fast enough. 

Though having Ashton as a soulmate would be an adventure full of love, art, and gentle touches, Michael has to admit that he also has his eyes on someone else at the same time.  

His name is Calum, and he’s Michael’s study partner in his Computer Sciences class. They sat next to each other on the first day of classes and since then Michael’s been hooked. Calum’s quartz colored eyes and the crinkles that form around them when he laughs at Michael’s jokes are as painful as they are beautiful. 

Sometimes Michael lets himself stare at Calum a beat too long, and his cheeks dust pink when he’s caught, but Calum never looks bothered. Between them, there’s a slightly charged energy, something a little less gentle than Ashton offers, something that’s more of a challenge, more of a bite, and it’s absolutely addicting how much Michael wants to peel apart the layers and find out just how electric things are under the surface. 

He knows that Calum’s majoring in Veterinary Sciences, and that when he isn’t working, he volunteers down at the shelter, waiting until he can get his own place off campus to adopt all of the animals he can fit in his home. Michael doesn’t say it, but if they turn out to be soulmates, he’ll be looking for apartments right away, ready to spend his life with Calum and all of the animals the shelter has to offer. 

He likes Calum a lot. He’s cute and funny and he blushes whenever Michael compliments him, which makes a satisfying coil settle deep in his belly. Once, he dropped a pencil and Michael picked it up and their hands almost brushed. Michael wonders what would’ve happened if they had. 

He wonders if they’d already be living together and planning their future. 

In the end, though, both of his speculations, both of the men that have captured his attention and half of his heart, avoid having to break Michael’s spirit with a missed-touch. Michael’s speculation doesn’t end with a disappointment this time around but rather a distraction. 

A distraction by the name of Luke Hemmings. 

They meet just off campus in the best damn deli this city has to offer. It’s a small hole-in-the-wall thing, and there’s typically never more than three people in at a time. Today, though, it’s packed, a line so long it’s out the door, but that’s not what feels different, what captures Michael’s attention. 

There’s a blond, up at the front of the line, legs a few miles long, struggling to shove his change back in his wallet fast enough to get out of the way of the customer behind him. He’s having a difficult time, an embarrassed red climbing up his neck as he pushes his money and sandwich to the end of the counter. Michael’s endlessly endeared. 

When Legs turns around, Michael swoons. He’s beautiful in such a off-typical way. His hair is soft and his lips aren’t too thin, but his nose his tilted up and there’s a worried crease between his brow that Michael longs to smooth out with his thumb. 

A feeling hits, in the moment before they touch, one that’s familiar in the way Eddie, and Geordie, and Ashton, and Calum all were. All Michael can think is ‘ _ I hope he’s mine _ ’. 

Legs looks up, his oceanic eyes meeting Michael’s green ones - like rain in the forest, warm and refreshing and inevitable, and in that moment his foot gets caught on the frayed edge of the carpet, and he’s falling forward. Michael acts without thinking, his hands reaching out and catching Legs by the shoulders, his left hand landing heavily against the man’s right collar. 

In return, Legs’ right hand grips at Michael’s forearm, and the world blurs around the edges, the tingles under his palm, on his arm, and in his heart are too heavy too ignore. 

Legs pulls back first, hands falling too quickly too his side as his lips part. Michael looks down slowly, pulse quickening and slowing all at once when he registers the azure colored mark on the outside of his forearm, exactly where the center of Legs’ palm gripped him. It’s not glowing, but there’s something about the quality of it, the brightness of it, that makes Michael think there’s a light beneath the surface. 

Acting out of instinct, Michael reaches up to Legs’ shoulders, where his own hand had just fallen from. He moves the collar of his soulmates shirt over and gasps when he sees a pale mint colored mark exactly where he’d touched. 

Neither of the two move until someone in line with them ‘awes’ at the way they’re staring at the marks they’ve left on each other. Legs looks around with wide, panicked eyes and then runs out. It hardly takes any time at all for Michael to follow him, abandoning his place in the ever-lengthening line to chase down this blond bombshell with whom the Fates have blessed him.

When Michael realizes he doesn’t know his soulmates name, he has to catch him with a firm hand around the wrist, pulling the hastily retreating body to a stop. Part of him aches as he feels the thundering pulse beneath his fingers and wonders why they couldn’t have touched in a more intimate place… their wrists, the back of their necks, their lips - if the Fates had a sense of humor, their dicks. 

His thoughts slip away soon when Legs looks nervously to the people lining up outside the door to the deli, and the customers inside staring at them through the window. “Everyone’s… watching.” They’re the first words Michael’s beautiful, timid soulmate says to him, and Michael wishes he could have them framed. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Michael tells him honestly, letting the sincerity bleed into his tone, keeping things soft, light - rubbing his thumb across the pulse point of his soulmate. “I love seeing soulmates meet. And now I’ve met my own.” 

“You did.” Legs is nodding, not looking at Michael. Instead, he’s staring at where their hands are nearly joined before pulling his arm away, breaking contact. “Everybody saw, there’s no denying it.” 

There’s a bit of hesitation, fear maybe, that makes Michael wonder if something happened. “I’m… I’m Michael,” he introduces himself. “Hi.”

“Luke.”

Michael frowns at the lack of inflection is his voice, at the flatness that keeps a small barrier resting tensely between them. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“It’s been a long day,” Luke answers after a moment of silence, looking over Michael’s head in the distance, eyes unfocused. “I should, I need to get to work. This was my lunch break.”

“Lucky that we were here at the same time,” Michael teases, but the words taste wrong, forced. “Almost like Fate.” 

It’s a joke, clearly, but Luke doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. “I guess so.” He turns to walk, but doesn’t make it more than a few steps before Michael’s jogging up to him, stopping in front of him to prevent him from running away completely. 

“Hey, wait!” Luke stops suddenly, nearly hitting Michael as he does. He gives a cursory glance at his watch before sighing. “Can I at least have your number?” 

He takes out his phone, holding it in the empty space between them. Luke takes a moment, clearly contemplating something in his head, but then gives in and grabs the phone, opening it, and typing his number into the dial pad. He doesn’t save it as a contact, so when he hands it back, Michael’s cautious to not delete or press any numbers - he can’t afford to lose his soulmate, especially not now that the Fates have decided they’re ready to meet each other. 

“I really have to go now,” Luke insists, stepping around Michael

“Have a good day!” 

He watches Luke walk down the sidewalk before getting back in line for his lunch. After he eats, he stands back and thinks about what’s just happened, how his life, in every definition of the word, has officially begun. He doesn’t feel as whole as he wants to, as he thinks he should after such an important, deciding moment, but looking down at the soft blue mark, there’s a light in him that has him walking on his toes to class. He even finds himself whispering “ _ Luke _ ” to himself along the way, an utter euphoria in the sweetness that accompanies the name every time he says it.

When Michael gets to his Computer Science class the day after he and Luke meet, it feels like he’s gliding. 

He called and sent a message to his soulmate, getting no answer to either, and yet there’s a permanent grin etched dopily onto his face. He feels so light, lifted by this feeling that he never knew he’d crave so deeply. 

The silence from his soulmate doesn’t feel like a rejection, it feels like something a bit more hesitant. Luke might just be shy, a bit timid, and he needs more time to adjust to such a life changing event. Michael’s okay to give him time - as much as needs really. No matter how long he takes, Michael will be standing by, bottom lip caught between his lips in anticipation of the future path they’ll pave together.

“Mikey!”

Michael’s attention is pulled away from thoughts of his soulmate, his eyes drifting hesitantly away from the mark on his arm to the smiling boy sitting in the seat next to where he’s headed. “Hey, Calum!” 

“What’s up?” Calum asks offhandedly, a casual, reflexive greeting. But then he takes in the way Michael’s cheekbones lift higher and his pale skin tints red from how completely joyful he is, and Michael watches as Calum’s lips flatten, suspicion painted all over him. “Oh, you’re happy.” 

“Am I?”

“If not, you’re about to kill someone.” Calum’s brown eyes are nearly hidden with how hard he’s squinting them. “What’s with that smile?” Michael takes his seat, extending his arm out for Calum to see. Usually he’s wearing a hoodie, cloaked in comfort for a long morning of lectures, but today he’s wearing short sleeves, letting the world see the point of pride painted cerulean on his forearm. Calum looks at it, his face tightened in confusion for only a moment before his lips part, falling slightly open. “Oh. Is that - Is that a - ”

Instead of letting him complete his question, Michael’s impatience gets the better of him and he’s nodding. “It is.” 

“When did that happen? Just now?” Calum asks. He begins looking around the room, eyes unable to center on one place for too long, and suddenly Michael’s struck the realization that Calum isn’t his soulmate. He’d been convinced that they might be just days ago, but now that he’s certain they aren’t, he’s not sure he likes that very much. “Are they in this class?” 

Michael feels the need to laugh at his study partner’s restlessness, to move on from a sick thought quickly invading his mind. “No, it was yesterday at lunch.” Michael can feel his eyes going out of focus, can feel his voice going airy with how breathless he he is, can feel his mark lighting up just the slightest bit at the pure adoration thrumming through Michael’s body - all just at the thought of Luke. “He tripped over a fold in the carpet, and I caught him. We stood together just staring at each other’s marks until the line of people pulled us out of it.” 

It’s odd, Michael thinks, how just two days ago, he thought Calum might be his soulmate, and now they’re having a conversation about the reason that they  _ aren’t _ Fated to be together. And as absolutely euphoric as thinking about Luke, and these marks, and the future they’re going to make together, there’s a sting of disappointment when he sees the flushed look of Calum’s tan skin. 

He seems to be in awe, but Michael wanted something more charged, and he’s stuck on any reasoning of why that may be. 

“That’s so… that’s like out of a movie,” Calum finally says after the silence has sat between them for a beat too long. Michael smiles, hoping it covers the moment of questionable sadness that ignited in him. “Seems like he’s perfect for you.” 

Michael bites his lip, thinking back to how it felt to have Luke’s collarbone under his hand, to the second their eyes met and the calm of the ocean coursed through his blood. It’s stronger than whatever lapsed his judgement before, and it’s enough to have Michael relaxing into his seat. “I think he just might be.” 

“Then I’m happy for you.” 

Calum’s smiling at him, something that looks more than genuine. Before Michael can say anything else, the professor is starting class, so he mouths a silent ‘Thank you,’ and hopes it conveys how grateful - albeit confused - he is to have Calum in his life. 

It’s an unexpected but welcome day when Luke finally responds to Michael’s messages. It’s short, just a ‘ **_sure_ ** ’ in response to Michael’s invitation for them to go out after their morning lectures, but it’s something. It’s  _ enough _ . 

It does come with a stipulation, though. As Luke described through text - not picking up when Michael called - he wants something small, no big gestures or overtly romantic plans. He’s okay with doing whatever Michael wants, but it has to be something lowkey, something that won’t bring a lot of attention to them or what they are. 

The words hurt, Michael won’t deny that, but he’s determined to push through. Luke just needs to be eased into it, and Michael can be subtle, he totally can. 

He has a plan to take Luke out for coffee at this quaint joint in the student shopping center, so he’s waiting in the courtyard just outside of the music building. Luke’s class let out at ten, and it’s seven minutes past, but Michael’s being patient, figures Luke will show up when he’s meant to - that’s how soulmates work. 

After a few minutes of nothing, a crowd of people exit the building. It doesn’t take long to notice Luke’s lengthy figure heading Michael’s way. He looks tired, a worried crease between his brow. Michael wishes they were at the point he could smooth out the lines, to comfort him easier. 

When Luke approaches, Michael opens his arms for a hug, but Luke looks uncomfortable, so the silence sits between them until Michael puts his hand out and Luke shakes it hesitantly. 

“I’m sorry if you were waiting too long,” Luke apologizes as they pull their hands away. He’s looking just past Michael, not quite meeting his eyes. “My class ran long.”

“It’s no problem. I was people watching.” It’s not necessarily a joke, but it’s said with humor. Even so, Luke completely ignores that and just nods. There’s not a hint of a grin on his face, and he stares at the ground, shoe kicking once at the dirt. 

Michael just doesn’t understand why there’s such a disconnect between them. He isn’t doubting that they’re soulmates - the fire under his skin is proof enough that the Fates didn’t get this wrong - but it feels like Luke isn’t receptive to anything at all, that he’d rather be anywhere else with anyone else doing anything else, and it makes Michael’s stomach coil sickeningly tight. 

“Do you, um.” Luke looks a little lost at Michael’s silence. “Should we go now?” 

“Right, of course,” Michael nods. “Is coffee okay with you?” Luke frowns a bit, and Michael can feel himself beginning to panic. Of  _ course _ he’d pick something Luke doesn’t like. It’s just his luck that he’d have the inability to relate to the person he’s Fated to be with. “We don’t have to! I can - We can go somewhere else.” 

Luke shakes his head, slow as ever in something completely opposite to Michael’s anxious movements. “No, it’s fine. Coffee’s good. Where to?” 

He starts walking with very hesitant steps, so Michael goes to lead the way. He doesn’t want to, wants instead to stand here until Luke tells him where he wants to go. He wants this to be  _ perfect _ , to be a first date Luke will never forget. 

That’s not smart, though. Luke doesn’t seem to be the type to like confrontation, or arguing, or anything more than the absolute minimal efforts. When he’s with Michael, at least. For all he knows, Luke’s a lively debater when he’s with people he actually likes.  Maybe he’s only being so complacent and passive because he can’t wait for the day to be done so he can leave Michael’s exhausting presence. 

“It’s the best place on campus,” Michael says suddenly as the walk out of the courtyard. His voice is a bit shaky as he chases away the negative thoughts that are plaguing his mind. “They brew the best caramel coffee.” 

Luke nods once, keeping his eyeline forward. “Sounds good.” 

“It is,” Michael agrees. It’s silent between them and it rings in Michael’s ears, so he keeps going. “I’m a bit of an expert navigator when it comes to finding the hidden gems on and off campus. I’m… I just like exploring, so if you ever need to know where to get the best yogurt or the cheapest bookstore, I’ve got you.” 

“Thanks.” Luke’s tone is so monotonous and there’s a lack of passion that makes Michael’s fingers clench around nothing. “That may… I might give that a try.” 

Michael feels a cold sweat wash over him, anxiety amping up his veins. “So do you consider yourself a, um, an expert on anything?”

“Not really.” 

“That’s alright,” he says, eyes focused on where Luke’s fidgeting with his wrists. “I’m sure there’s  _ something _ out there you’re good at. You’ve got time to discover it.” 

They’re  _ young _ . That’s what keeps running through his mind. They’re still in university, still discovering their passions, still building their characters. That’s why it’s alright that Luke doesn’t know just yet, but it’s also why it’s alright that Luke’s more content to walk in silence than talk to his soulmate. They’re young, they have time to grow, to learn, the become who they’re meant to be as partners. 

At least, that’s what Michael tells himself as his mind spirals into tormenting conspiracies over why Luke isn’t as accepting to him. 

“H-how old are you?” Michael stutters out the question, face pinching at the timidness of his own voice. This isn’t  _ him _ . He’s usually so lively, so excitable. He doesn’t know how to be himself with a soulmate that doesn’t take it in strides. 

“Twenty-two.”

“Me too.” He nods. “Twenty-three in November.” 

They’re heading into the shopping area on campus, where the coffee shop sits alongside Michael’s favorite bookstore and a little bakey with the best scones. It’s going to be a breath of fresh air when they finally get there and Michael can have something else to focus on that won’t be shot after shot to his confidence. 

“Is that a,” Luke starts. “What is it? A libra?”

“Scorpio.” At Michael’s answer, Luke hums. He doesn’t make to continue the conversation, but it’s something. “Are you into astrology?” 

“Not really.”

It’s not really much of anything, just a short answer that does nothing to keep them moving forward it’s infuriating how badly Michael just wants to turn around, walk home, and cry himself to sleep. 

“Are you?” 

“A bit,” Michael answers, more out of necessity than actual interest at this point. Everything just feels so taxing with Luke. “Definitely more into the Fates than the stars, but I think it all has an impact on us.” Michael’s hand accidentally grazes Luke’s and Luke pulls his hand back harshly. Michael’s stomach sinks. “How, um, how do you feel about soulmates?” 

“Oh, I’m… I’m giving it a try.” Luke’s voice is but a sigh. Michael’s mouth is dry and he can’t find a response in him. It hurts that  _ this _ is Luke giving it a try, that he has to force himself out here, that this is something that he has to make himself do with minimal enthusiasm. “Hey, I work here.”

Michael looks up and realizes that they’re already at the shop. He didn’t even realize they’d arrived there, that they were even close, but the yellow sign is a golden beacon of hope. They’ve made it there, now they just have to make it through. Maybe Michael can survive the day without losing all of his hope in the Fates afterall. 

When Luke’s words hit, that he works at Michael’s favorite coffee shop, Michael turns, surprised to his soulmate. “ _ Really _ ? I’m here all the time. Crazy that we haven’t met before.” 

“We met when we were supposed to I guess.” Luke shrugs, eyes cast to the sidewalk. Michael sighs, and cringes when Luke frowns even more at that. They both know something isn’t working between them. There’s something missing, and unless both of them are putting forward an effort, it’s going to be a miserable life ahead of them. 

Acting off of impulse, Michael holds the door open for Luke, but he gestures for Michael to go in first and Michael wants to cry at the subtle rejection. 

They go through the motions, standing awkwardly, quietly in line next to each other, and Luke refuses to let Michael buy his coffee - that one hurts the most, he thinks. They sit at a table near the window, but Luke cowers into himself. Michael feels unsettled and completely out of his element, and it burns through him like hot humiliation. 

At the end of the date, they part ways, and Michael walks home alone, his head hanging, weighed down with thoughts of inadequacy and shame. He always thought he’d be the  _ perfect _ soulmate, that he had all this love to give. And while he may be ready to give it away by the truckload, there’s nobody who wants to accept it, Luke looking at even the smallest gesture like it’s going to bite him. 

He wants to give Luke time. He knows that soulmates aren’t something Luke’s held much anticipation and excitement for - that much is obvious - but if things continue like this, Michael’s spirit is going to take a hit he can’t recover from. 

He just hopes they don’t get to that point. 

“Put your pencils and brushes down.” 

Michael snaps himself out of his daydream at the sound of Professor Trifilio’s voice echoing in the concrete studio. Michael’s sitting shirtless on a wooden stool, spine straight and arms placed strategically in front of him. There’s a blue flower tucked delicately behind his ear and he’s wearing his clear glasses. It’s all apart of the aesthetic for the pictures the class is painting of him this week. 

The sound of wood hitting wood sounds as everyone places their utensils on the catch tray of their easels in front of them. Most of the students immediately flood out of the room at the dismissal of class, but a few stick around for finishing details. Usually Michael would hold his pose for them, but right now he has other things on his mind. 

As he was sitting there, body held tight in such a focused position, his mind was the more relaxed part of him and ran wild with thoughts. It’s been three days since his terribly uncomfortable first date with Luke, and his soulmate has taken to ignoring his attempts at contact again. 

It’s frustrating, in all honesty, and all Michael wants to do is grip him by the shoulders and demand he explain what’s so wrong with Michael that he doesn’t deserve even one response. 

So instead of staying locked on the stool, Michael pulls his hoodie over his head, adjusting his sleeves so his soulmark still shows because even though Luke isn’t exactly eager about them, Michael still holds out hope, still wants to share his luck with the world. The flower nearly falls out from behind his ear, but Michael fixes it. He’s not posing anymore, but he doesn’t hate how it makes him feel. 

“Hey, Prof?” He approaches where Professor Trifilio is examining some of the easels on the left side of the room.

She rolls her eyes at the name. “Yes, Michael?”

“I was wondering if I could start coming in a bit more often?” Michael asks quickly. He knows the art department can’t afford to pay him to come in every day of the week, but he’s desperate for a distraction. 

“Depends on what ‘often’ is?”

“Whenever you need me,” he answers honestly. “I’ll do an extra day if that’s all you got, but I would do every day of the week if you could take me.” 

Professor Trifilio squints, looking incredibly suspicious at how open Michael is being. He’s usually stubborn and - quite honestly - annoying. He knows that. The vulnerability to his question is definitely something worth being questioned. “Is something wrong, Michael?” 

**“** Not really.” It feels like a lie. It seems like lately  _ everything  _ is wrong. He can’t even make his soulmate, the person Fated to fit perfectly in with him, comfortable. “I just need to get out and do something. My mind is going crazy, and I can’t be alone with my thoughts or I may just chase away someone important to me.” 

“While I appreciate the artistry of your explanation,” she laughs, and Michael can’t help but smile alongside her despite the seriousness of this discussion, “that sounds like you may need something other than a distraction. Have you talked to this very important person?” 

He’s  _ tried _ to talk the the very important person, but it’s difficult when the attempts are the exact thing he needs the distraction from. 

“He’s ignoring my calls again,” he answers, shrugging as though it’s no big deal, as though his heart doesn’t twist in his chest with the admission. “That’s why I need this - to keep me from dialing in all my free time.” 

“Have you considered getting a job?”

“What for?” He asks. His tone is joking, an effort to push back just how much he wants to fall to his knees and  _ beg _ for the chance to be away from his phone as often as possible. “I’ve already got the perfect one. As soon as class starts, I’m the most important person in the room. What could be better?” 

Professor Trifilio’s mouth thins as though she can tell this all a defense mechanism to push back unwanted doubt in Michael’s mind. “A steady income?”

“I make decent money modelling for your talented and flattering students,” he says, response quick and accompanied by a smirk, but the professor only sighs. 

“I can give you Monday through Thursday, but that’s it,” she offers and Michael resists the urge to pump his fist in the air. 

“That’s better than I was expecting. I’ll take it.” 

As much as he wanted a seven day offer, he knew it would be unrealistic. Even having just four days is great. That’s three additional chances to sit for ninety minutes without access to his phone, without the chance to fuck things up and barrage Luke with calls that he’ll inevitably ignore. 

“Alright then,” Professor Trifilio nods. She stands up straighter and walks away from the canvases. “Get out of my classroom and go find another distraction.” 

“I do believe this is a  _ studio _ , Prof.”

She laughs, shaking her head, but turns around and goes into her office, leaving Michael staring at empty space. He turns around himself, but instead of walking off, he almost runs into someone. His hand makes an aborted movement for the person’s bicep, but his hand falls away when he realizes who it is. 

“ _ Ashton _ .” 

Standing in front of him is another previous contender for his heart. He’s standing just an inch or so shorter than Michael, yet still managing to look taller. He’s got a camera wrapped around his neck and a cautious smile on his beautiful face. 

“Michael, hi,” he returns, voice hesitant. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great, yeah.” 

Maybe there’s something to just how unsubtle Michael is, how transparently bad at lying he is that every can see right through him. “Is everything okay with Trifilio?” Ashton asks. “Things looked tense.”

“It’s all good,” Michael assures him, feeling more confident in his words knowing he has a distraction to look forward to tomorrow. “I just asked for more days on. Need a distraction to keep me from ruining my future.” 

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Ashton’s smiling, teasing, and there’s something so light about it, so delicate, that it makes Michael feel like he’s floating. 

“Aren’t I always?” 

Ashton laughs at the mock-bow Michael attempts and fails. “What life-ruining situation have you got yourself into?”

The humor slips from Michael’s face easily. He don’t really know why, but he doesn’t want to tell Ashton about everything. Maybe there’s just a part of him that wants to keep it all to himself, to not indulge the world in the trials and tribulations of his downward spiralling relationship with someone who doesn’t seem to like him very much. 

But that’s not too right. He wouldn’t mind telling his parents, or his cousins, or the cashier at the bookshop. Maybe it’s just Ashton. Sweet, wonderful Ashton who looks at Michael like he’s something of worth, like he’s completely golden. Ashton, who acts like Michael’s something special when really it’s  _ him _ that steals everyone’s eye when he walks in a room. 

It doesn’t matter in the end, though. Michael sighs with it when Ashton’s wide hazel eyes beg him to share, dancing with a hint of amusement amongst the genuine concern they hold. It’d be a dirty tactic if he knew just how fucking weak Michael is for him. 

“I met my, uh, my soulmate last week,” Michael starts. 

Ashton’s eyes flicker down to Michael’s arm automatically. “I saw your mark,” he says. “It was nice having something new to add to your work. Think it really improved the picture.”  

“Can I see?” Michael asks automatically, curious about what Ashton could’ve possibly done to make his work better than it’s been in the past. 

**“** Not until you tell me what’s up,” He says. 

“I - ”

“Not that you  _ have _ to,” he interrupts, voice coming out in a rush as though he’d said something completely inappropriate. “Only if you’re completely comfortable.” 

Michael laughs easily with it, loving that Ashton thinks there’s anything he could ask of Michael that’d he actually be able to say no to. “I’m alright, I promise. He’s just really timid. I don’t think he was expecting to meet his soulmate - or maybe it’s the  _ me _ of it - but we went on a date the other day and it was so uncomfortable. I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate, but as soon as it started, I wanted it to end. He’s been ignoring my calls and messages, so I have to keep my schedule busy to avoid chasing him away. I don’t think he likes me very much.” 

It’s a mouthful to say, and after he gets done, he almost regrets it when he sees Ashton’s wide eyes taking him in. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks lost. 

“Who wouldn’t love you?” It’s so soft, the way he says it, and Michael’s heart beats to the pattern of the awe in his voice. He used to think the same thing, but now? “You said he was timid, seemed unsure of soulmates. Maybe you’re coming on too romantically about this.” 

“But I love romance.” 

Ashton bites his lip around a smile and Michael can’t stop himself from reaching up and playing lightly with his  _ own _ bottom lip, imagining it’s Ashton’s fingers ghosting along his skin. 

“I don’t doubt you do, Romeo,” Ashton teases. “I just mean maybe it’s too much for him too fast. Try approaching him like a friend. Take him to a party, or bowling. Be platonic.”

It’s not a bad idea, not at all, but it’s  _ difficult _ . Michael tried to do things slowly, but even just brushing their hands together - completely by accident - was enough to have Luke skittering away. It was disheartening to say the least, and trying to do it again but be even  _ less _ intimate… well, Michael doesn’t know if he can. 

But he  _ has _ to. Luke tried for him, Luke was willing to go forward with something he was so uncertain about, so the least Michael can do is gear everything back completely. To be as platonic as a person can possibly be. 

“I guess I need to get planning.”

“Just keep it simple, and you’ll be fine,” Ashton advises. Michael nods, looking down in thought. “ _ Hey _ .” As Michael looks up, Ashton’s instructing him to “Smile.” When he looks up completely, Ashton’s holding his camera in front of his face. Michael manages a confused grin as Ashton takes a picture, the  _ click _ of it making Michael jump. Once it’s been taken, Ashton lowers the camera and looks at the photograph, a warm smile stretching across his face as he does.  

“How do I look?”

“You look beautiful,” He says, voice nearly a whisper. “As always.” Ashton walks away, not giving Michael a chance to react, just abandoning him and his racing heart and reddening face alone in the concrete room. He’s so dazed with perplexity that he forgets to look at Ashton’s canvas before he makes his way back to his empty dorm. 

They’re friends. 

Well, they’re  _ friendly _ . Michael’s taken to pulling back the romanticism of their relationship. He invited Luke out to a party, something small being held by a few students in the graphic design department, and to Michael’s surprise, Luke said yes. 

They’ve been here for about two hours, and while neither of them are doing much socializing with other people, but there’s been a steady flow of conversation between the two that absolutely floored Michael when it first began, but now he’s managed to reel back his shock and is actually quite enjoying himself. 

When they first arrived, Luke burrowed himself into the far corner of the kitchen, looking surprised and unsettled when Michael followed, and they had an awkward exchange of questions - now he know Luke’s favorite color is crimson and he’s majoring in Music Composition - but then it turned into actual discussion, and while it hasn’t been the greatest interaction of all time, Luke’s loosened up a bit, and Michael’s managed not even so much as  _ mention _ anything soulmate related. It’s safe to say that tonight has been a success. 

Of sorts. 

_ Of sorts _ , Michael thinks, because he’s still not sure how to pull himself out of this platonic hole. Not that he’s plans to do so now - or anytime soon - but Luke’s reception to him seems to change on a day to day basis and it’s so confusing. 

The night, while going pretty great, has to end somewhere, and it does when the third drunken girl in a row bumps into Luke. It keeps happening to the poor guy, but this girl must be the last straw because Luke closes his eyes and says something under his breath. When he opens them, he’s staring at Michael, a sadness swimming in his light blues. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and at first Michael thinks it’s an odd thing to say, but then he’s picking it up with, “I’ve had a lot of fun, but I think I’m gonna go.”

Michael’s surprised to hear those words, but he’s mostly surprised he didn’t hear them sooner. They’ve been having a good night, or Michael has at least, but there’s still some distance between them. It’d be great to stay here all night, but Michael has to face the fact that this just isn’t Luke’s scene. 

Michael nods, hoping there’s not a trace of disappointment on his face to make Luke feel bad because even as unfortunate as it is that he has to say goodbye to Luke, he still had a good night with him. “Let me walk you.”

“No, that’s alright,” Luke waves him off. “I don’t want to ruin your night.” And if it were just two hours before, if he looked uncomfortable and out of place and so unsure of Michael’s presence, Michael would drop it, lean against the wall, and stay at this party. As it is, Luke doesn’t seem like he’s trying to brush Michael off, it’s as though he’s only declining the offer to be polite. 

“My night would only be ruined if I didn’t get to spend it with you,” Michael risks saying, holding his breath that he doesn’t spook his soulmate with his forwardness. “Let me walk you home.” Luke smiles, and it’s a small thing that’s barely noticeable, but Michael’s heart stutters in his chest as the sight, at the subtle acceptance. “Do you have a coat or anything?”

“Just my phone.”

He looks up quickly at those words, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t put that down somewhere, did you?”

“No, it’s in my pocket.” There’s a wrinkle between his brows and his is tilted ever so slightly to the left. “Why would I put it down?”

“Well if it’s in your pocket, why would you mention it?” 

They’re still standing in their corner, voices raised to compete with the volume of the music that’s bound to blow a speaker any moment now, and both Luke and Michael are exchanging equally as confused glances at each other 

“Because I was telling you what I brought with me,” Luke tells him, pulling his phone out quickly before shoving it back in his pocket, almost looking cool with how fluid the movements are. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“I was asking in case we had to go and grab it,” he explains. “If your phone’s on you, it’s not important.”

“My phone is very important,” Luke tells him. His bottom lip juts out in a small pout before he’s demanding, “ _ Your _ phone is unimportant.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two and then Michael’s laughing at how ridiculous and picked on Luke looks, standing there, his hand defensively over his pocket. “Fate’s sake, Luke,” he manages to get out, slowly backing away. “Let’s just get out of here.” Michael’s still laughing when they get outside, and once the fresh air hits them, he feels safe to look over, only to find Luke smiling alongside him. 

Not for the first time, he’s struck with the thought of how attractive Luke is. Only, now it also hits with the thought that Michael’s incredibly lucky that one day he’ll get to call Luke  _ his _ . The Fates knew what they were doing, and the pull between them suddenly feels so strong that he has to put his hands in his pockets to resist the temptation of holding Luke’s in his own.

“So where do you live?” Michael asks as they fall in step with each other down the the sidewalk, heading towards campus. “By the music building?”

“No, I’m just off campus,” Luke says. “I’ve got an apartment.” 

Michael looks over to Luke and… it seems about right. They’re both twenty-two, nearing the end of their college careers. Only a few older students still live in the dorms - Michael being one of them. 

“Fancy man in a fancy house,” he finds himself saying for a lack of anything else coming to his mind. Luke doesn’t even smile at it, and Michael doesn’t blame him. “Sorry, that didn’t make sense. I’m just really happy right now, so I’m being weird.” Michael almost regrets saying it, but then Luke’s laughing and even though it’s small, it’s so beautiful. “You ever feel like that?”

Luke doesn’t answer at first, his tiny little chuckles filling the space between them, and Michael thinks he’d like to live in this moment forever. Even if he never gets to touch Luke, just seeing the smile on his face, and hearing the airy laughter ringing like his favorite song is enough. 

“Not lately, no,” Luke answers. “But yeah. It’s like being drunk without the hangover.”

“Only you remember everything embarrassing.”

Luke cringes, nose crinkling at the face he makes. “Yeah, like throwing up in front of your entire family at Christmas time.”

“You did that sober?” Michael asks, and Luke’s nose gets even higher as he’s probably remember it. 

“And my family won’t let me forget it.”

Michael can’t help but laugh at that, but Luke doesn’t take offense to it. In fact, his face relaxes, and while he doesn’t laugh alongside Michael’s there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

It feels like a win. 

They walk silently together for a bit, letting the humor of their last exchange sit pleasantly in the air, but Michael can’t enjoy it for too long before his mind is racing, wanting to get everything he can out of Luke before the moment is over and he wakes up from this wonderful pastel dream to Luke hating him again. “So do you have a big family?” 

“Two brothers.” Luke shrugs, acting like it’s nothing, but for someone who grew up with no siblings to antagonize and somehow also love unconditionally, two brothers sounds like more than enough. “My mom and dad. A lot of cousins.” 

“Not exactly small then.” 

“Not exactly.” But it doesn’t sound like Luke’s all the way there. He bites his lip once, eyes sliding over to Michael before he’s shaking his head. “What about you? A million siblings running around?” 

“It’s just me,” Michael answers, and when Luke hums, it sounds like he wants to say something, but stays silent anyway. Michael doesn’t let him sit on his thoughts. “What are you humming about over there? Something interesting.” 

He doesn’t answer right away, staring resolutely at the ground. For a moment, Michael worries that maybe he pushed him too far, that maybe while being platonic was okay for a little bit, trying to become friends who tease each other was just a step too far. 

But then Luke’s looking up, taking a deep breath to say, “It makes sense, I guess. You have a big personality and you’re confident. Like you didn’t have to compete with brothers and sisters for anything growing up. I just kind of pictured you with siblings.”

“Yeah?” Michael asks. “What makes you say that?”

“I, um…” He trails off, not continuing his answer, and when Michael looks over, he’s chewing the corner of his lip aggressively. “This may sound weird, so please don’t make fun of me.”

“No promises.”

He says it as an impulse, what he always says when someone asks him to be kind, and he worries it was too much, but Luke smiles something small again. “I used to have dreams about soulmates a lot when I was younger. I know it’s common, and that it doesn’t  _ actually _ mean anything, but in them there was me, my soulmate - you, I suppose - and siblings.” 

The words sit heavy in Michael’s throat. The idea that Luke’s given thoughts to soulmates before, that he’s dreamt about them, wondered about them, had solid concepts about them already formed long before he met Michael and still gave him  _ nothing _ . 

“Yeah?” It’s all Michael can say, the only sound his mouth will let him make. 

“Yeah,” Luke nods, completely ignorant to the war waging in Michael’s head. “There was Jack and Ben, and then an older girl, and then two younger ones.”

He gives himself a moment to collect his thoughts before he adds, “I have cousins maybe?” 

“Maybe…” There’s nothing said more on the subject for a moment, the two of them just continuing their walk, but then Luke’s standing up taller and looking into the distance. “There were other people as well. Two of them. But I couldn’t ever figure out what that meant.”

“It may not mean anything, you know,” Michael tells him. “There’s no proven link between dreams and soulmates. Just like there’s no link with colors or size.” 

“Well, there may not be a  _ proven _ link,” Luke agrees, but Michael can tell there’s something contradicting coming, “but your mark on me is green, just like your eyes. And mine is blue. “ 

“There’s this girl, Serena, in my animation class, and there’s a black mark on her leg with a golden outline,” he recalls. “Nobody’s eye color is like that.”

“Maybe eyes aren’t important to their relationship,” Luke quips. “Maybe eyes mean something to  _ us _ .”

Michael stops walking at that - not consciously so much as his feet stop allowing him to move forward. 

Hearing Luke say that, say that something might be important to them, that their might be a  _ them _ to begin with - it’s a punch to the gut. He’s talking about them like they’re soulmates, like he recognizes the bond between them. It’s a far cry from the timid Luke that ignored him just a bit ago after their uncomfortable first date, and it brings to question just what could have happened in the meantime. 

It’s progress, Michael thinks. Or at least, it  _ could _ be. Luke had said during their first date that he was giving soulmates a try, and maybe this is the first step. It just… Michael had sat with the thought that soulmates were a taboo topic, and now Luke’s speaking of them, like there’s something significant enough between them that the Fates decided to paint their future in the color of such a thing. 

Suffice to say, Michael’s feeling a bit dizzy. 

“Michael?”

At Luke’s worried question, Michael looks up at him and squints, feeling suspicion crawl up his spine. “We’re soulmates.” It’s not a question, and Luke tilts his head at the odd phrasing of it. 

“I know,” he nods once. “I can never get a tattoo on my collarbone because of it.”

“Did you want one?”

“No,” he shakes his head. Michael bites his lip, thinking about what any of this could mean. Why  _ now _ is Luke deciding to give him something. Or is this even anything? Maybe Luke still doesn’t want him, but is playing along with Michael’s ideas of being friends. “Is something wrong.”

_ Yes _ , michael wants to say. He’s fucking  _ confused _ . Where do they stand? What are they? When will Luke acknowledge the  _ important _ things and let Michael love him with everything he has in his heart? 

Instead of saying all that, Michael lies, “No, I’m alright.” 

“Then pick up the pace.” Luke grins, starting to walk backwards. Michael wants to remind him about their first meeting when Luke tripped and that he should watch where he’s going, but he stays silent. “I’m just a block over.”

They walk back to Luke’s apartment silently. Only this time it’s not because there’s nothing to say, it’s because there’s too much to say. 

There’s an entire book that could be written just of everything sitting in Michael’s head right now. The emotions spiralling in his head, the shakiness of his hands to the steady gaze his eyes have on Luke’s covered collarbone. He’s taunted with thoughts of not being enough for Luke, of giving too much and not enough, and never being what his soulmate needs. 

It’s sickening, how quickly this night went from incredible to a pool of anxiety sitting low in the pit of Michael’s stomach. He just doesn’t know what to do about anything when Luke comes into question. He doesn’t know if he should address the ‘soulmate’ of it all, if he should try and take a step forward. He doesn’t know how to make Luke open up to him, or if somehow this  _ is _ as open as he’ll get. 

He just wants to take a leap of faith and see if maybe things aren’t as bleak as they seemed just a week ago. 

They come to a stop just outside Luke’s apartment building, and instead of following him upstairs, Michael comes to a stop. “Could I…” He trails off. He staring at Luke’s lips, wondering if tonight progressed enough that he can kiss his soulmate, or if this was just a fluke of a night and taking a leap of faith will just have him crashing their relationship to the ground… The risk is too much. “Never mind.”

“Ask.”

It’s a whisper, and Michael’s head snaps up from wheres hes staring at the ground. If his previous thoughts didn’t already have his mind spinning, Luke’s insistent word would definitely do it. “What?”

“Ask,” Luke repeats. His eyes are wide, beautiful, and he looks like he means what he’s saying, hopeful. “Please.” 

“I was just - ” Michael bites his lips, giving Luke one last chance to stop him before he asks and ruins the progress they’ve made tonight. Luke doesn’t move. “Could I kiss you?” Luke nods, and Michael’s eyes widen. He suspected Luke might agree, but this feels too good to be true. “I don’t… I need to hear you say it.” 

“Yes,” Luke rushes to say. “You can. You can kiss me.”

It’s quick, minimal, and barely anything at all, but the moment, though ephemeral, goes by slowly as Michael captures Luke’s bottom lip between his own, holds it there, and pulls back. When they part, Luke’s eyes are shut. They don’t flutter open, neither of them swoon, but when Michael sees his blue eyes again, there’s not even a hint of regret. 

“Was that okay?” 

“More than,” Luke says. He’s not smiling but there’s a glint in his eyes that has Michael’s heart pounding against his chest. Luke kisses Michael’s cheek, and before anything else can be said or done, he disappears inside. 

Michael walks home confused. Luke’s giving him mixed signals, and Michael doesn’t know where they stand - doesn’t know if they’re still platonic or if they’re making progress as soulmates. It’s enough to make his hands run tensely through his hair, wanting to pull the strands out by the roots, just to feel the pain, just for a feeling he can  _ actually _ identify. 

It’s frustrating and for a moment he thinks he can’t put up with the confusion any longer, but for the first time since their initial meeting, the tingling beneath his skin is strong and pleasant, and the mark is brighter than it’s ever been before. 

"So…" Calum sings when Michael falls into his seat ten minutes before class starts. "How are things going with your soulmate?"

It's been a month since their first kiss after the party, and they've been spending more time together. They kiss quite often nowadays, but they fight even more. In fact, it seems like the quickest way to stop fighting for them is to suddenly be making out. 

Luke will say something that has Michael's heart constricting, his face pinching at just how bad it makes him feel, and Luke will skip an apology, skip any explanation of why he said what he did, and he'll lean over to distract Michael with his lips. 

And damn if it doesn't work every single time. 

The number one instigator of their fights is dates. It seems like every date Michael suggests is something romantic, public, and taken straight out of the Soulmates for Dummies handbook. That's because every date he suggests absolutely is. He's wanted to have his soulmate since he was barely old enough to comprehend what the colored marks even meant, so he's going to be recommending the cheesiest, lovey-dovey dates that he can, and if Luke doesn't like that, Michael believes he should come up with ideas of his own.

The only issue is that Luke doesn't want his dates to be the slightest bit romantic, public, or even a date at all. He had one solid idea of watching a movie under the stars when their university put the event on, but Luke spent the night stiff, only relaxing when Michael's gentle hands rubbed circles into his hip to calm him down, spending the entire time wondering if Luke didn't want to be seen with him. 

At the end of the day,  _ that’s _ what really upsets Michael. He doesn't mind their time together being private, intimate even. He thinks it's sweet that they can be alone and have those moments just to themselves. What makes Michael feel just a thread away from tears is the reasoning behind why Luke doesn't want to take things outside of his small apartment. 

Michael's biggest fear is that Luke is ashamed of him. Things go good for a while, it looks like progress is being made, but then Luke will close off, reverting back to the shell of a soulmate that he was on their first date, and Michael's heart breaks a little more each time. 

The truth is, Michael's scared that he's not enough for Luke, and that they aren't going to be each other's forever like they're supposed to. Luke's going to get bored of him and Michael's arm will hold a constant reminder of how he gave all he could and it still meant nothing.

He smiles at Calum, holding back all of his fears and says, "Pretty good," like he isn't being torn apart inside.

On one of their better days, after there’s been an almost consistency in positivity between the two of them, Luke drags Michael out - in  _ public _ \- to go shopping at a farmer’s market across town for some fresh, organic ingredients.

At first, Michael found himself a bit suspicious. A date to the farmer’s market was far too cheesy, new-age indie film material, something that he’d be all for if Luke wasn’t so shy about something so utterly cliche, but then Luke said it was all because he had plans to make Michael dinner, and Michael had to check that this wasn’t a dream. 

Not that he doubts Luke can be romantic. When the two of them are alone, Luke’s been prone to an occasional comment or passing glance that leave Michael feeling hot under the collar and warm in the chest, but something this sweet, this thoughtful, just fills Michael with so much  _ hope _ . Luke’s making an effort, a  _ romantic _ effort, and Michael’s filled with love at the prospect. 

They’re walking slowly, taking their time looking for the ingredients Luke needs, but all Michael can think about is just how badly he wants to reach out and hold Luke’s hand. 

It’s stupid that he’s stressing over it so much, he’s well aware of that, but he can’t stop his fingers from twitching longing to graze them against Luke’s. His mind is racing with worries of whether Luke would even  _ want _ to. The date is sweet and in public, which just screams promise for the state of their relationship, but from the outside, this looks platonic. What if that was Luke’s intention? 

If Michael were to hold Luke’s hand - were to try to, anyway - and he reacted badly, the date would be over, and another stain of rejection would form on Michael’s heart. He doesn’t know if there’s much of a clean surface left for that too happen without him breaking apart completely. 

The fear that Luke’s ashamed of him still bleeds through him sharply. He’s a bundle of nerves, and he does the only thing he knows he’s perfect at… He talks. 

“So what are you making me?”

Luke smiles something small at the sudden question. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” 

“Oh, that’s such a cheat of an answer,” Michael complains, earning a laugh out of Luke but nothing else. “What if I guess? Will you say yes if I guess?”

“Let’s find out.” 

It’s not an answer, and Michael has a feeling he’s never going to get one. He groans, but still asks, “Is it spaghetti?”

“I would just buy spaghetti sauce if that were the case, wouldn’t I? 

Michael finds himself frowning, hoping it looks more cartoonish than genuinely put off. “Well that’s not as sweet of a gesture, is it?”

“I’m not cooking to be sweet. I’m doing it out of necessity.” He has a straight face, and doubt bubbles under Michael’s skin for a moment too long. But then Luke’s grinning and Michael breathes out a breath of relief. 

“You’re a dick.” 

Instead of getting offended or even laughing, Luke’s skin dusts pink. “I know that’s an insult but it sounds like a compliment coming from you.” 

“It’s always a compliment when it’s about you, Luke,” Michael sings, letting his voice drop, sincerity bleeding into his quiet tone. “I couldn’t insult you even if I tried, you string bean.” Luke shakes his head but he’s smiling, and Michael finds his gaze dropping to Luke’s empty, soft hand, wondering if maybe  _ now _ he can hold it. 

“I don’t even know where we’re going,” Luke says suddenly. He shoves his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone and Michael frowns.  _ So close _ . “Tomatoes first.”

“You’re making spaghetti.”

Laughing at Michael’s insistence, Luke shakes his head. “I’m not, I promise.”

“If I don’t get spaghetti tonight, I’m going to be disappointed.”

“Well then you’re definitely going to be disappointed.”

Michael sighs. “I always am.” 

It’s a dumb joke, but Luke laughs all the same, and the blue mark on Michael’s arm sings in progress. Were it two months ago, back when they’d first realized what the were to each other, Luke would be frowning, head down as he walked tensely at least 3 feet away from Michael. Now, they’re smiling, standing just a breath away from each other as they look around the farmer’s market. They’ve come so far, and now they’re two thriving soulmates in search of the vegetables. 

“Or would it be a fruit?” Michael wonders and Luke groans, his head falling back with it. 

“Should’ve just gone to the grocery store.” 

“ _ No _ ,” Michael barks, blushing at Luke’s amused shock. “I just meant that this is fun. I like this.” He shakes his head, feels incredibly stupid for sounding so eager about just walking around some market. “Let’s play a game.”

Ignoring Michael’s panicked correction of his own zealous behavior, Luke just continues surveying the stands. “We’re never going to find the tomatoes.”

“Maybe the tomatoes are in the memories we make along the way.” 

Again, it’s just a dumb joke, but the reaction it pulls from Luke is something magical. He begins laugh as he usually does, voice low, but then it continues and escalates, getting high pitched, almost like he’s  _ cackling _ , and his eyes squeeze shut like it’s too hard to keep them open with his laughter. Michael can only watch in awe as he nearly falls over with the weight of the joke, because of course, on top of being incredibly hot, he’s weird as hell. 

He’s Michael’s soulmate, and he’s absolutely perfect. 

It takes almost a full minute for Luke to calm down, Michael having spent the entire time giddy in being able to prompt such a response. As they finally start walking again, and Michael thinks he can get away with reaching for Luke’s hand, Luke runs his through his own hair instead, and Michael curses on having missed an opportunity again. 

They pass by a few stands brussel sprouts, all in a row, and Michael spares a thought as to if they actually manage to sell any of them, if they get enough customers throughout the day to really sustain having three stands. 

“I wonder how late this place is open,” he wonders out loud. It’s supposed to be a throwaway comment but Luke answers without letting a beat pass between them. 

“It doesn’t close.” He says it with such conviction, not even an ounce of humor, and it leaves Michael confused. “Once it hits night time it turns into the Dark Market where the vegetables sell people.”

Luke’s not even smiling, his mouth isn’t twitching, but Michael can’t stop looking at him like he’s his whole world. “You’re so  _ stupid _ .” 

“Is that a compliment too?” Luke asks, most likely detecting the marvel in his voice. 

“Of course.” 

They’re all compliments for Luke, who’s managed to turn Michael’s life upside down all because he couldn’t walk across a carpet. Luke, who Michael’s ready to spend the rest of his life with. Starting now if Luke would ever be into that. 

He doesn’t say any of that, doesn’t know if Luke would take it in stride. Instead he bites his lip and does the only thing he knows he’s perfect at… He talks. 

Again. 

“So if you were a vegetable what would you be?” He asks, no lead in. Luke doesn’t seem bothered or weirded out in the least. In fact, he goes along with it, biting his lip in concentration. 

“You called me a string bean earlier, so - ”

“No,” Michael cuts him off before he can make that his decision. “That’s lazy thinking. Like if I were to say potatoes because I’m a couch potato, that’s not creative. But if I were to say I’d be  _ cauliflower _ …” He lets his words hang in the air, hoping to prompt a better answer from Luke, but instead it just has him grinning. 

“It’s because of the hair, isn’t it?”  He runs his hand through Michael’s hair, and Michael’s heart stops beating. 

It takes all of the effort in the world to not suddenly start purring in the middle of this farmer’s market at the feeling of Luke so gently carding his fingers through the soft strands of Michael’s hair. 

“I-it’s because I’m so white too,” Michael says, hoping there’s no awkwardness after. 

Luke only hums, looking thoughtfully at Michael before pulling his hand away. There’s a second where Michael wants to whine and beg for it back, but then he considers this as an opportunity, a sign the he can initiate some physical contact. 

Considering how to go about it, Michael grins. “You’d be a peach.” He’s certain time slows down as he reaches his hand out and pinches Luke’s ass. Luke jumps, swiping his hands behind them. He turns to Michael with wide eyes, and Michael holds his breath, worried he’s ruined everything. But then Luke’s skin is heating up and he’s biting his lip. 

“Not here.”

And that’s a fucking invitation if Michael’s ever heard of it. 

There’s a part of him still curious if it’s the  _ Michael _ of it all, so he reaches his hand out, eyebrow raised in question, and Luke slides intertwines his own with a bashful smile. It’s such a small gesture that could easily mean nothing, Michael’s on top of the world. 

They walk around, making general vegetable conspiracy nonsense, sharing in the nice day and organic environment, and then Luke’s gasping out a “ _ Finally _ .” 

He doesn’t know what it’s about until he follows his soulmate’s gaze and see the large wooden sign with “TOMATOES” spelled out in blocky, red letters, and then they’re almost toppling over with how fast they start running over. 

There’s more on the list for them to buy, this only being their first stop, but there’s an excitement in Michael’s bones as they look over all of the produce in front of them. And least until he sees another, smaller, sign that confuses and infuriates him. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Huh?” Luke looks up from where he’s holding a large ripe fruit in one hand and plastic bag in the other. 

“Why are these tomatoes a whole ass two dollars?” Michael asks, not caring that the venom in his voice is being heard by the grocer just a few feet away on the other side of the stand. 

Luke’s eyes widen and his head is jerking to the sign Michael’s in front of. “Are you serious?” 

They’ve spent a solid hour, just walking the perimeter of the mart looking for one thing -one terrible overpriced and not that tasty thing. It should feel disappointing, like a waste of time, but Michael doesn’t find any sadness or upset in his body, all he feels is anger that Luke came all this way to buy fresh ingredients and he’s going to be ripped off. 

The grocer must be able to sense that he’s about to lose a customer and rushes to explain, “Well, it’s organic, so - ”

“So it’s magical, I guess,” Michael cuts him off, not letting him finish. “Can’t believe this tomato is going to give me the power to fly, Luke. Can you?” 

Any doubt that the Fates were wrong in pairing him with Luke become white noise in the background when he sees the same perplexity on Luke’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you over the tomato,” he bites. “It was talking to me with it’s very expensive mouth.”

“Oh, it’s talking?” Michael plays along. “What’s it saying?”

In a high-pitched voice, one that rivals the squeak of his laugh just a little bit prior, Luke mocks. “‘ _ Don’t buy me, _ ’” and if Michael weren’t so outraged by the price, he’d fall to the ground laughing.  

“Well, I guess we have to listen to the magic tomato.”

Having had enough of their complaints, the grocer rolls his eyes and their antics. “I get it, okay?” he says, sounding bored. “If you’re not going to buy something, can you please go?”

Wanting to bite back, but not wanting to waste anymore time in the trap that is a farmer’s market, Michael pulls Luke away. 

“I guess dinner’s a bust then,” Luke sighs. He’s frowning and Michael doesn’t like the look of sadness on him one bit. 

“I may have an idea.” 

It’s not fancy. It’s not homemade spaghetti at at candlelit table for two, but Luke doesn’t look disappointed when they pick up pop tarts from the convenience store at the corner of his street and spend the night under his blanket watching old school comedy movies. 

Somehow, this feels a lot more  _ them _ . 

Despite the pop tarts and old movies being something so completely, terribly,  _ wonderfully _ amazing, Luke still ends up making Michael dinner.

It's a little over a week after the farmer's market fiasco, and Michael's under the impression that he's going to Luke's just for them to be together. To watch television or do homework or just exist in each other's company, but when he approaches Luke's door, fist raised to knock, there's a strong burning smell like somebody left the chicken in too long or kept a sheet of paper next to the burning stove. 

Immediately Michael's worried. 

He knocks on the door three times, every pound of his knuckles against the the wood louder than the last, and then cautiously opens it, shouting out a hesitant, “Lukey?” 

“Don’t come in, don’t come in!” Luke's voice echoes throughout the apartment. “I’m indecent.” It's clearly a lie but Michael smirks despite himself. 

“That’s definitely not going to scare me away,” he teases, walking in and shutting the door behind him. “And I think you know that.” Luke laughs once in the distance, but it sounds wet. That's when Michael notices the thin layer of smoke in the living room. “Luke, what happened?”

“I,” Luke chokes out, and Michael can hear he's in the kitchen and follows his voice. “Look, can you just head home, and we can reschedule?”

At the end of his request, Luke sniffles, wiping frustratedly at his nose. He's lighting a small fan up and placing it in his open window to blow out smoke. His posture is absolute shit, hunching in on himself as he takes shallow, teary breaths, and Michael's soulmark begins to pinch on itself, the pain of seeing Luke so distressed aching in the worst way. 

“Did you burn something?”he asks, cursing when it sounds more accusing than caring. 

Luke turns to Michael with a jump. His eyes are red rimmed, his cheeks are wet, and Michael wants to wrap him in a blanket and protect him from whatever's gone wrong. “I - I tried to cook for you, but it just…” Luke's sniffling cuts his explanation off, and Michael’s rushing forward into the smoke before he can even think about it. He pulls Luke into a hug and can't even feel happy when Luke melts against him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, baby?” The pet name slips out without Michael even realizing. Luke sobs out and grips Michael's shoulders from behind, where his arms are wrapped underneath Michael's. 

“It was supposed to be perfect,” he weeps. 

Michael waits a moment, let's Luke curl into him and get it all out before questioning, “What makes you think this isn’t perfect?”

“Don’t pretend, Mikey,” Luke bites, and it may have hurt to hear if he wasn't choking on his tears and embarrassment. “I fucking ruined it. I ruin  _ everything _ and you’re gonna leave me.” 

Everything had been a gentle worry, but upon hearing Luke's fear, Michael laughs once, a panicked concern striking him twice in his heart. “I’m not going to leave you, baby,” he rushes to say. “What are you talking about?”

Luke doesn't give a solid answer. Instead, he shakes his head fervently, burrowing his head in Michael's neck. Luke mumbles words against his collarbone that he can't understand, so he waits patiently, holding Luke as sobs shake his body until he wipes his tears on the shoulder of Michael's shirt and pulls his face away. 

“I’m so stupid and I can’t do anything,” he spits, eyebrows furrowed at himself. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t mean that, Luke,” Michael says, not even leaving room for Luke to finish his sentence. The words hurt, scraping acidicly against Michael's heart at the toxic thoughts in his soulmate's head. “It certainly isn’t true. I’m never going to leave you. If anything, I don’t deserve  _ you _ . I don’t deserve a beautiful soulmate making me dinner and surprising me like this. You’re too good for me.” 

Like he’s trying to convince himself otherwise, Luke shakes his head with a renewed energy. The self-depreciation at such a small mistake feels like part of something bigger, something sad, and it makes Michael’s heart squeeze in his chest. Luke deserves fucking everything, and it hurts Michael to know that Luke isn’t aware of that. 

He takes his hands from where they’re wrapped around Luke’s back to grab at his face and level their eyes. “Baby,” he says. Luke whimpers, a new layer of tears forming in the bright blue eyes. “You are so fucking  _ good _ . If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have even attempted this, let alone get as upset as you are when it didn’t work out.” 

Luke’s watching Michael closely, pale skin looking porcelain, ready to crack, and Michael has to wipe a stray tear off of Luke’s cheekbone. He’s gentle with it, unsure of just how fragile his soulmate is at this point. 

“This is  _ perfect _ .” Michael’s voice is just a whisper at this point, but Luke can hear. He shakes his head once, but can’t do much more than that before Michael’s hands are stopping the movement. “Don’t tell me no. You burnt the food, it’s a bit of a mess, but it’s  _ okay _ . Because  _ we’re _ a bit of a mess, and I love it so much. I wouldn’t have it any other way. You can feel upset, you can cry, and that’s so okay. I’ll be here to cuddle you until you’re back to your happy self. Alright?”

There’s a beat, Michael’s heart beating strong in his chest and his breathing shallow as he waits for something to happen, for time to move. Then Luke’s nodding and falling into Michael’s chest again. 

It’s such a difference from how they were at the beginning. They’ve come so far for Luke to be so trusting, and Michael knows the universe got it right putting these two fools together. They’re both a wreck at times, but they can be each other’s anchors - it’s beautiful that they can have this moment together. 

After Luke’s calmed down and most of the smoke and smell have cleared from the room, Michael wonders, “Can I ask what you were trying to make?” Luke shakes his head, and Michael can’t help but smile. “No? Why not?”

Luke chokes a laugh out, it’s a bit weepy, but it makes the blue on Michael’s arm sing. “It was tacos.”

Michael tries to keep his composure, but then he’s losing it, giggling as he pulls Luke from his chest. “How do you mess up tacos?” Soon, Luke’s giggling too. 

Everything's going to be okay. 

“You look happy,” Ashton comments one day after class. Michael had spent the entire time he was modelling smiling at absolutely nothing, just feeling full of love. 

He looks up from his phone, a text from Luke saying he misses Michael lighting up his screen. “I am happy.”

Just two hours ago, Michael had Luke laid out in bed, shirt rumpled on his chest, ready to come off. His lips bruised from how aggressively Michael had been kissing them, biting at them, as their hands wandered each other. It’s the furthest they’ve ever gotten, and Michael was loath to be torn from his side to come model, leaving his boy hard in bed, with a teasing promise of later. 

“Does this have anything to do with that shy soulmate of yours?” 

While the answer is an obvious, excited, resounding  _ YES _ , but hearing Ashton ask, seeing his beautiful smile form around the word ‘ _ soulmate _ ’ feels like pin pricks across his skin. Michael often feels the urge to share Luke with the world, to show him to everyone he can, to shove him in their faces and yell ‘He’s  _ mine! _ ’, but when it comes to Ashton, Michael doesn’t want to share anything. 

“It does, yeah,” Michael answers in lieu of letting his true feelings spill from his lips. His earlier joy has dwindled, and he feels like a liar despite speaking honestly. “I think things are really working out for us.”

Ashton smiles, and Michaels pulse stutters. “I’m glad.” 

It’s a shock to the system just how Ashton’s smile makes him light up, makes him feel like maybe he isn’t complete, but that he  _ could _ be. He doesn’t understand why things can be going good with Luke, how he can be so filled with love for his soulmate and still hold a candle for Ashton. 

Michael doesn’t say any of that, doesn’t speak of the feelings of doubt. Instead, he only smiles halfheartedly, heart thundering in his chest. “Me too.”

Some days it seems like the Fates gave Luke to Michael because every other aspect of his life is complete shit. Nothing can ever go his way, and today is proof of that. 

The hot water in the communal shower went out for the third time this semester in the middle of Michael’s rinse cycle, and he had to walk back to his dorm freezing cold in his towel, only to find that he’d forgotten his key in his room. He had to wait for twenty minutes in the hallway, wearing only the thin white fabric as students passed him hiding their laughs in their hands, for his roommate to get back from breakfast. 

Those twenty minutes completely fucked his schedule over, and he walked into his animation class late, receiving a disappointed glare from his professor. At the end of class she called him to her desk, and at first he thought it was about his tardiness, but she ended up sharing his essay with him, his essay that held a failing grade. 

At that point, the only thing on his mind was a long nap before he even attempted to get on with the day, but because the Fates decided he’s only allowed one good thing in his life at a time, he forgot his key in his room again. He still has his computer science class and he doesn’t think he can work on programming when he’s ready to fucking break. 

The only place, the only  _ person _ , Michael can even think of is Luke, the one positive constant he has, so he makes his way off campus and to his soulmate’s apartment, ready to fall asleep in Luke’s warm arms, and maybe wake up feeling better just from being where he was always meant to be. 

Without knocking - because Michael likes to think they’re at that point in their relationship - Michael walks in. The  _ slam _ of the door behind him has Luke jumping in surprise where he’s seated on the floor in front of his couch. There are pieces of paper spread out in front of him - sheet music, Michael will realize when he gets a better look - and his blue eyes are veiled by a pair of glasses that make Michael forget his own name. 

“Mikey?” Luke’s voice is sheepish and bit confused, hearing it alone is enough to ease the pressure off Michael’s shoulders just the slightest bit. 

“I’m fucking  _ pissed _ ,” he bites, tone far more venomous than anything he’s ever used around Luke, and still not not properly conveying how tough this day has been. 

“At me?”

And Luke looks so sad, so upset at the prospect that he’s done something wrong, that Michael frowns, tension bleeding out of his body as he sinks to ground in front of Luke. “Never at you, baby.” 

Lately, ever since the taco fiasco, Michael’s taken to using the pet name. It seems to fall off his tongue so naturally around Luke, and with how it makes the boys cheeks turn a ruddy pink, Michael doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop. 

“I’ve just had a really bad day,” Michael explains, his voice soft and patient, unlike it would be were he having this conversation with just about anyone else on Earth. 

“Do you…” Luke trails off, the bottom left corner of his lip being pulled into his mouth and then released in the the same motion. “Do you want to yell? You can yell if you want.”

When he first got here, Michael had the intention of yelling, wanting to shout his frustrations with the fucked up grading system this university uses and the cosmic shit the Fates keep taking on him, but seeing Luke staring up at him, wanting his to express his anger, he knows he  _ can’t _ . Luke’s too good to get the ugly side of it all. 

Michael smiles, not quite feeling better - a pinprick of irritation still licking up his spine - but wanting to be right to Luke. “I think I’d rather just cuddle you.”

It doesn’t have the immediate effect Michael was expecting. Instead of opening his arms with a relieved grin and pulling Michael’s body against him, Luke frowns, biting his lip again. He looks to be deep in thought, considering something, and Michael’s worried. 

He can feel himself spiraling, can feel his mind whirring around with doubts and uncertainties, afraid he took a step too far and that his anger ruined all the progress they’ve made together. He’s worried Luke’s retreated into himself, scared to let Michael touch him, scared his anger is going to turn violent. 

“Maybe I can help you unwind some other way instead.”

And as the fog of panic clears, Michael’s confused. “What do you mean by - ”

He never gets to finish his question because soon Luke’s tackling him, both of them falling to the floor as their lips meet in a bruising kiss, and Michael thinks maybe this might be better than cuddling after all. 

With his legs thrown over Michael’s waist, stretched out atop his horizontal body, Luke takes Michael’s mind off of all the stress this day has instilled in him. Time seems to fade as their tongues meet, roughly at first, but soon melting into something more familiar, softer, but hot all the same. Luke hasn’t shaved in the past day, and his stubble rubs against Michael’s cheeks every time their skin grazes each other; the sting of it has Michael’s hips jumping up, his lips sliding sloppily against Luke’s. 

“Do you trust me?” Luke asks suddenly, pulling away, voice gone deep, lips gone pink. He’s a sight to see, and if Michael’s vision hadn’t gone a bit fuzzy with a feeling of Luke’s tongue against his own, he’s sure he’d be drinking it in by the mouthful. 

“Always, baby.” 

And then Luke’s disappearing down the line of Michael’s body, stopping at his waist, hands immediately going to the zipper of Michael’s jeans. 

Contrary to how Michael sometimes acts, he doesn’t have much experience when it comes to being physical with other people. He’s always wanted his first time to be with his soulmate, so he never let himself get too far with other people, sticking strictly to kissing and the occasional accidental graze of clothed skin against clothed skin. It’s not that he’s a prude, but he’s definitely not as loose as his confidence sometimes makes him look. 

Saying that, despite being a bit sexually inexperienced, he still can read the signs, can tell what’s about to happen, and it has the color draining from his face and bleeding into a place much further south.  

Luke has all the confidence in the world as he shimmies Michael’s jeans down his hips until they’re resting at his thighs, the fabric of his boxers being pulled alongside them. He’s still basically dressed, with just his cock hanging out, and he feels exposed, especially when Luke’s eyes look up at him, a thin circle of blue barely visible with how blown out his pupils are. 

But then Luke’s leaning down and taking as much of Michael’s dick in his mouth as he can. 

“Sh- _ shit _ , Lukey,” Michael gasps, hips jumping up. Luke’s hand presses against “That’s…  _ Baby _ , you’re so good.” Any other words Michael may have said are cut off by his abrupt moan at the feel of Luke’s humming on his dick. 

After resting for a moment, Luke pulls back, and the pressure on the head of Michael’s cock as Luke sucks on it, has Michael beginning to wonder why anybody ever leaves the bedroom if even the slightest touch from his soulmate has him feeling this spectacular. 

Luke pulls off giving the skin just under Michael’s head a few kitten licks and then he’s taking him back in his mouth, going further down, and Michael’s hand flies to Luke’s hair, not pushing, but rather running his fingers through the feathery soft strands. He’s leaning up on his left elbow, eyes glued to the way his soulmate is trying to swallow him whole. 

When Luke comes back up this time, he pulls off completely, huffing and looking up at Michael, eyes determined. He leans back down, hands gripping tightly at Michael’s hips and goes down again. This time, more than just the wet heat of his soulmate’s mouth, there’s a tight pressure around the tip of his cock, and it makes its way further down, squeezing Michael’s fucking soul out of it. 

Someway, somehow, Michael’s soulmate, on top of being a fucking angel, can also deep throat. 

Getting blown by Luke was bound to be amazing, but the tight feel, the overwhelming  _ press _ of Luke’s throat against Michael’s most sensitive area is making this just about the best moment of his life. 

He doesn’t last long, not that he ever had a chance to, but it isn’t the feeling that pushes him over. What  _ really _ finishes him, what takes the breath from his lungs, is when he looks down at where Luke’s mouth is stretched around the base of his dick, to see his soulmate’s teary eyes, a triumphant smugness shining back at him, like he knows what he’s done, that he’s just ruined Michael for anyone else. 

And Michael finishes before he can even begin to breathe again. 

He blacks out for… well, he’s not sure how long, but when he comes to, his bones are jelly and his Adonis is falling next to him on  the floor, both of them on their backs, staring at the ceiling as they take deep, exhausted breaths.

“That was…” Michael doesn’t even know how to finish his thought. There’s nothing on Earth that compares to what he’s just experienced. He feels completely lifeless, like Luke’s mouth just took ever sense of who he was and left him a husk of a man. “ _ Fuck _ . You’re so good at that.”

Luke’s voice is a bit broken, and probably the hottest thing Michael’s ever heard in his life, when he says, “I don’t have much of a gag reflex, I guess.”

Michael laughs, astonished at the casualness of his discovery. “I guess not.” 

He lets himself catch his breath, calm down a bit, and then he’s rolling over, letting his body cover Luke’s, his mouth soon doing the same. He can taste himself in Luke’s mouth, but shockingly, it doesn’t turn him off. If anything, it makes him eagerly lick at the roof of Luke’s mouth, wanting to show his appreciation for Luke being so fucking perfect. 

“Let me get you off, baby,” he breathes, pulling back to place open-mouth kisses down Luke’s sharp jawline. “Treat you as well as you treat me.”

“Don’t need to.”

“I  _ do _ ,” he insists, letting his teeth scrape against the delicate skin of Luke’s neck. “You’re so perfect, Lukey. Want to show you just how good you make me feel.” 

Luke moans when Michael nips at his collar before sucking in a bruise. “No, I - ” a moan cuts his words off before he’s continuing, “I already finished.”

The words take a second to sink in but when they do, Michael pulls back suddenly, looking Luke in his eyes before letting his gaze slip to between their bodies. There’s a wet spot on the front of Luke’s grey sweatpants, the sign that while he was giving Michael head, sucking his essence from his dick, Luke came in his pants. 

As if he couldn’t get any sexier. 

“You’re so fucking  _ hot _ ,” Michael all but growls, leaning up and shoving his tongue in Luke’s mouth, hands gripping at the back of his neck to try and get them closer. The idea of Luke being so turned on is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and Michael needs to show Luke just how much he fucking loves it. 

He doesn’t get a chance to, though, as his phone starts beeping in his pocket, and he groans, shoving his head in Luke’s neck. 

“Phone call?” Luke asks, and Michael shakes his head. 

“Alarm,” he corrects, feeling the bitterness that tries to sink into his bones fade away with just how relaxed he is, body covering Luke’s and soulmark sending pleased tingles throughout his system. “Computer Science class.”

“You should go.” 

Michael frowns against Luke’s skin. “But you’re so hot, baby. I can’t leave you high and dry again. What kind of soulmate would I be?” 

“I’m definitely not dry, Mikey,” It comes out breathy, and it’s too much. Michael bites Luke’s collarbone, making him moan, and Michael’s dick twitches at the sound. He’s beginning to wonder if they can have a second round when Luke pushes his shoulders, making him roll away. “You have class.” 

“Who needs an education, am I right?”

“ _ Mikey _ .”

Michael scowls, but stands up anyways. Luke stays on the ground and Michael glares down at him, taking in his flushed skin and ruined sweatpants. “I’m sucking your dick later tonight.” 

“I’ll eagerly await your return.” There’s an easy sarcasm in Luke’s voice, and Michael rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile. Things between them have been absolutely  _ perfect _ lately, and the thought alone has Michael floating to class. 

For the first time in a while, Michael makes plans to something big and romantic for date night. 

It’s his night to choose, and while he originally planned on a night in with takeout from the Thai restaurant at the corner of Luke’s street, that’s been the basic outline of every night they’ve together for the past week and a half, and he wants some variety. Luke deserves the very best, and Michael won’t stop until that’s all he’s giving. 

His extra modelling sessions have given him the ability to save up, meaning he has a few spare dollars to treat Luke to a night out on the town. 

A quick google search tells Michael that there’s an aquarium open late on Thursdays, and an even deeper research shows that it’s a humane environment. Sitting next to Calum for the past semester and a half has taught him not to trust every zoo out there. He easily could’ve ignored that, Calum would’ve never known, but it felt wrong to not make sure everything was moral. 

He tells Luke to be ready to go at seven, but with a great date idea in mind and a hot soulmate just off campus, Michael’s too excited to wait and shows up eleven minutes early. He doesn’t walk right in like he’s began to do every other time he comes over because tonight’s special, so instead, he knocks on the door. 

And when Luke doesn’t immediately answer, he begins  _ pounding  _ on the door until Luke rips it open, eyes wide and chest bare. 

“Well,  _ hello _ ,” Michael greets, smirking as he leans against the now-exposed door frame, taking in the sight of his shirtless soulmate. 

“Why are you so loud?” Luke asks, lips thin, obviously a little irritated. Michael doesn’t let it get to him because he knows that when they get to the aquarium and Luke takes in the aquatic creatures, he’ll regret not being ready earlier. 

He waves off the insult. “I’m always loud. Where’s your shirt?”

“I was getting dressed when you starting attacking my door,” Luke explains, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be right back.” He turns and starts walking towards his bedroom. The only thing stopping Michael from following is the fact that they’ve got tickets for seven thirty and the aquarium is across town. 

“Or you could leave it off!” 

Luke just shakes his head, but Michael wants to think he’s smiling as he goes. As he’s getting dressed, Michael tries to wait patiently, but fails a bit. He’s too excited to stand still and ends up shifting his feet, hopping from one to the other as his hands sit, flexing and curling in his pockets. 

He likes to think he’s a good soulmate, but if Luke likes this as much as Michael thinks he will, this is going to be so  _ good _ for them. 

When Luke comes out, swiping his keys and wallet off the bookshelf, he narrows his eyes at how much Michael’s twitching. “Why are you so excited?”

“I can’t be excited to see you?” He’s avoiding the question, not wanting to let Luke in on what’s happening, but Luke doesn’t look convinced, so Michael leans in to kiss him until he forgets the question, but gets pushed back before he can make contact. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, taking in every suspicious movement Michael knows he’s projecting. “Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise,” Michael says, taking his hand out of his pocket and  _ boop _ ing Luke’s nose with his pointer finger. “I can’t tell you.”

Even before he says anything, Michael knows Luke isn’t taking this situation well. He frowns, looking about as playful as he did during their not-at-all awkward first date. “Michael, where are we going?” 

Just like Michael has pet names for him, Luke’s taken to calling Michael  _ Mikey _ , and to hear his full name fall from the boys lips instead stings. He knows he’s not done anything wrong, but it still feels like a punishment, a penance for being a bad soulmate… or something like that. His feet stop moving and his enthusiastic smile drops from his face. 

“I promise it’s not something you’ll hate or anything,” he explains, hoping his voice doesn’t come out as pitifully as it sounds to his own ears. “But I want it to be a surprise.”

Luke bites his lip, stutters out an, “I - “ before shaking his head and falling silent. 

“Can you trust me?” Michael asks. He knows he and Luke have come far, but have they come far enough to let Michael do this for him? “I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable, but I think this will be really great if you can trust me.” 

There’s a moment where it looks like Luke’s going to say no, and it doesn’t sting Michael like he thinks it should. As Luke’s going over in his head, and Michael expecting a negative answer, all he can think about is how that just means he has to earn Luke’s trust, and how they’ll have to spend more time together. It doesn’t hurt. 

It should, but it doesn’t. 

Though, when Luke breathes in and says, “I can trust you,” Michael feels nothing but joy at the honesty on his soulmate’s face. Things for them are better than they’ve ever been. 

“Then let’s go,” he grins, reaching his hand out and Luke takes it with no reluctance. “And if you hate it we can leave right away.” 

“If I hate it, I’ll make you tacos,” Luke threatens, which is so completely right that Michael can’t help but laugh. 

Not that it’s a surprise to any of them, but Luke  _ loves _ the Aquarium. They walk the entire perimeter of the place, Luke stopping for nearly ever critter they happen across, but in the end, even the deepest interest is just a passing glance compared to the forty-three minutes Luke spends visiting the penguins, looking at them in awe, and then turning that same sparkling amazement of Michael.

It’s all just further confirmation that Luke is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

They have sex for the first time that night, and though he doesn’t say it, Michael knows he’s gone and fallen in love with his soulmate. 

Everything in the universe is exactly how it should be, and nothing can bring them down. 

“Are you fucking  _ kidding  _ me?” 

Michael hasn’t even been standing in front of Luke for a full thirty seconds before he feels like every good moment they’ve had together means nothing. The blue on his arm is burning alongside his anger and part of him really wants to start fucking screaming. 

“Michael,  _ please _ ,” Luke begs. His eyes are soft, worried, as they shift down the hall to either side of them, and his voice is too quiet, like he’s trying to make a point of keeping his volume down as though it’s going to calm Michael down. Instead, it just makes his hands clench tighter at his side. “Can you just come inside? I don’t want to fight about this in the hall.” 

“Oh, so you just  _ know _ there’s going to be a fight then, do you?” 

“Yes, I do,” Luke says, speaking slowly like Michael’s a child or someone else equally incapable of having a conversation. “Because we both have differing opinions and you’re already yelling without hearing mine.”

Blood boils in Michael’s veins at that, at the fact that he’s not hearing Luke out. Every single thing he’s done for the past five months has been with Luke in mind, and for the first time Michael just wants for Luke to see things  _ his _ way, to understand the hurt and rejection cinching his heart. 

“‘Differing opinions.’” There’s a lump in his throat, but he swallows against it, letting the frustration win out against his sadness. “What a great fucking way to put it,  _ Hemmings _ .” 

Luke flinches, and Michael feels a rush of power at how he begins to hunch on himself.  “Michael, can we just - ”

“Can we just, what?” Michael cuts him off, not caring about his volume, even as a door down the hallway opens and closes at the sound of their arguing. “Can we just go inside so your neighbors don’t hear? Just like we used to have to spend our time inside because you were ashamed of me.” 

At the accusation, Luke looks hurt, and Michael vindictively thinks  _ good _ . He wants to cut deep, wants Luke to know the pain he’s inflicting on Michael. “I was never ashamed of you.” 

“Bull  _ shit _ ,” he spits. “You hid me away like you didn’t want anyone to know I was your soulmate, and now you’re hiding like a coward again because you don’t want to meet my parents. You’re ashamed of me just like you’ve always been, Luke. Just admit it.”

Michael can feel the distress coming in waves off of Luke, his soulmark stings with the choked, “I’m  _ not _ ,” that falls from Luke’s lips. “I just think it’s too soon.” 

_ Too soon, he says _ , Michael thinks bitterly. It feels like he’s yelling at a wall - only instead of just standing there, the wall breaks Michael’s fucking heart. 

“It’s been five  _ fucking _ months.” The lump is back in Michael’s throat, only he can’t hold it back this time and his voice quivers. “When is it going to be enough time for you decide you like me enough to meet my family?” He asks, holding back tears even as he see some falling down Luke’s pale cheeks. “A year? When am I going to meet  _ your _ family? Two?  _ Three? _ C’mon, Luke. Am I ever going to meet anyone, or am I just your dirty little secret?” 

“ _ Mikey _ \- ”

He can’t look at Luke anymore, the glassy quality to his ocean eyes only making Michael feel that much more fragile. “Save it,” he says, turning around just as the first of his own tears falls from the corner of his eye. 

Soulmates are supposed to be easy. They’re supposed to be  _ perfect _ for each other, but every step of the way, Luke and Michael have found  _ something _ to clash about, and it’s starting to break him down. Michael doesn’t want to stop trying, but he’s afraid if he keeps going, keeps giving Luke his all, it’s going to strip Michael of everything he is. 

He doesn’t want a different soulmate, he’s hopelessly in love with Luke and likes it that way, but he just wishes things were easier. If he had someone that was as gentle and giving and had a  _ take everything I am _ quality to them like Michael does, he wouldn’t be constantly running towards a moving target. 

It’s with these thoughts in his head that he sees a familiar face, Ashton, as he’s heading towards the staircase. If he’d had a clearer head, he wouldn’t have wondered, “Why couldn’t someone like  _ you _ have been my soulmate?” loud enough for Luke to hear as they passed each other. 

At the question, they can both hear Luke choke on a sob at his door. Michael scowls, stomping down the stairs, leaving his soulmate a wreck and Ashton wide-eyed, probably wondering what the fuck has just happened. 

Michael’s wondering the exact same thing. 

The moment his feet hit the sidewalk, Michael was marching home. He’s spent the entire day in his room trying to write out an apology. His waste bin is overflowing with crumpled pieces of line paper, all filled with words that stopped making sense to Michael hours ago. 

Every ‘sorry’ has began to bleed into every ‘ _ but _ ’ and he’s ready to tear his hair out. He wants to apologize,  _ needs _ to apologize, for the words he spoke to Ashton as he was leaving. They were cruel and immature, and he doesn’t want to be a vengeful soulmate who cares more about winning a game they aren’t playing. He wants to be right and  _ good _ and the man that Luke deserves. 

The only issue with that is for every apology about the Ashton of it all, everything comes back to the original argument, and every time it comes off like Michael’s excusing Luke’s behavior, Luke’s refusal to even  _ consider _ meeting Michael’s parents. Like he’s apologizing for feeling lesser in their relationship. His intention isn’t to be selfish - he never wants it to seem like that - but he can’t let himself be pulled apart just because he’s stupid and romantic and he’s gone and fallen in love. 

Just after he’s just finished a truly horrendous apology letter and thrown it away, there’s a knock at the door. It’s midnight, and when Michael peeks out the peephole, he’s expecting to see a serial killer or a homeless man or some seeking shelter to hide from a homeless serial killer. 

It’s a shock to the system that it’s Luke standing in the hall. 

He steps into the hall quickly, shutting the door behind him so they’re talking doesn’t wake his roommate. “Hey, what’s…” he trails off, not sure what to say - not sure what’s going to start a fight or not. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m not ready to meet your parents.”  

“Cool,” he snaps, lips thinning as the rejection courses through him once again. “Thanks for repeating that. It didn’t hurt enough the first time.” 

“No, I’m - ” Luke cuts himself off, shaking his head as he tries to collect himself. Michael contemplates storming inside and leaving Luke there with his own indecisions. “I’m trying to be honest with you, okay? I’m not ready to meet your parents because I don’t want them to  _ hate _ me.”

Suddenly he feels defensive of his own parents. “They wouldn’t hate you,” he argues. He just doesn’t understand why Luke’s fighting so hard against everything. “You’re my soulmate.”

“But if I wasn’t - ”

“What are you  _ talking  _ about?” The easy insinuation that there’s a different reality where maybe Luke and Michael aren’t Fated to be together makes Michael’s stomach turn. “You’re my soulmate, and my parents aren’t going to hate you. What’s even going on?” 

Before speaking, Luke waits a moment, and… alright, Michael should probably stop cutting him off at this point. “If you’re not going to take me seriously, we don’t have to do this. I can just go back home and we can let this get worse. Do you want that?” 

“Don’t talk down to me.” 

“Don’t talk down to  _ me _ , Michael,” Luke bites, and it’s perhaps the most vicious he’s ever sounded. Michael jumps at the tone, shocked at where the venom could be coming from. “I’m sharing my fears with you, and you’re stepping all over them.” 

There’s a million retorts on the tip of Michael’s tongue, but he bites them back. He’s being unfair not listening to everything Luke has to say, so he waits a beat, pinches his eyes shut, and nods once. “You’re right, and I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Go ahead.”

“I’m still figuring out how to be your soulmate,” Luke explains. “I’m trying, and I know we’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m still unsure of how to do things. I don’t want your parents to see that I’m a mess and judge me for it. I want us to be  _ us _ before we bring someone else in.”

There’s a part of Michael that wants to fight, to air out all of the dirty laundry and to get to the root of why Luke doesn’t think they’re where they need to be yet, but Michael feels it too. They’ve grown a lot as soulmates, but there’s still so far to go. 

The fear he has that he could ever be anything less than perfect, though, that just doesn’t sit well with Michael. There’s something imbalanced in their relationship that’s making them both doubt how to be proper partners to each other, and it causing a rift between them that’s going to tear if they don’t fix it. 

Luke’s here to try and fix it, to air things out and be honest with each other, and Michael would be a fool not to take the chance, to not work towards mending everything that today had broken. 

Only, there’s something innate in Michael, screaming at him from under the blue on his arm, that it’s not the whole truth. That Luke isn’t lying, but he isn’t being honest, and it tastes bitter in his mouth to admit to himself that there’s something wrong between them. 

Instead of speaking his doubts out loud, he smiles flatly. “I’m sorry that I overreacted. I think maybe we just both got too in our heads.” 

“You’re probably right.”

He’s not, and they both know it. 

Michael pulls Luke in then and invites him to sleep over so he doesn’t have to walk back home this late at night. He gives him a pair of pajamas to wear and they crash into the bed together, facing each other but not saying what’s on either of their minds. 

As Luke’s breathing evens out, and they both start to fall asleep in each other’s arms, Michael begins to think that maybe this is all a lot harder than it’s supposed to be to be, and that something must be off. 

Soulmates shouldn’t feel like something’s missing. 

As Michael’s stepping into his Computer Science class, his face lit up already just from seeing Calum already sitting in his seat, his phone vibrates in his pocket. At first, he assumes it’s a text, but then the buzzing continues indicating it’s a call, and he’s rushing forward to haphazardly drop his book on his desk so he can pull the device out of his pocket. 

He’s in too much of a rush, and he doesn’t read the caller ID before answering, so he’s surprised when a pained, “ _ Mikey _ ,” greets him. 

Things have been pretty easy between Michael and Luke lately. They haven’t been fighting at all, but there’s an underlying tension that pushes them along its current, just waiting to ripple and break. Michael’s been holding his breath, waiting for the worst. 

The only reason they’ve been so amicable is because they’ve both got fears and worries to tell each other, but neither of them want to be the one to open up, to start the conversation, and instead they’re ignoring any warning signs and acting as though it’s three weeks ago, back before any feelings of inadequacy came to fruition and they were  _ good _ . 

Even so, even though there’s an impending doom waiting for them, something that Michael knows isn’t going to be good when it hits, it still burns to hear that Luke might be hurt. 

“Mikey,” he pleads through the line, and there’s a spark behind the blue on Michael’s arm. “I need you.”

“Baby?” He asks cautiously, noticing a few heads looking his way at the pet name. “Are you alright?”

“N- _ no _ ,” Luke stutters a reply. “I need you here.”

Michael’s heart goes out to him, can hear the urgency in the panting breaths he’s speaking through, but Michael’s only allowed so many absences in class before it starts to affect his grade, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be excused so easily, especially now that he’s already shown up. 

“I can’t just leave class before it’s started,” he tries to explain. “Can you wait an hour?”

Luke whines into the phone. “Can’t. Need you now.” Michael opens his mouth to argue back, but then Luke’s adding, “Need your dick,” in the breathy tone that never fails to make Michael fall to his knees, and this time it has his phone nearly slipping from his fingers. 

“ _ What _ ?”

“I can’t…” Luke trails off on a moan, and only now can Michael hear the distant squelch of what  _ must _ be Luke’s hand on his dick or his fingers in his - “It doesn’t feel as good without you. Need you to hold me down, a-and…” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t need to. Michael’s already reaching forward, scrambling to collect his books and race out of class before he gets too hard and the entire class knows how whipped he is for his soulmate. 

He ignores Calum’s concerned looks and the professor’s glare, and runs across campus and out of it to Luke’s apartment. He’s smashing through the door, dropping his books on the floor as the door slams behind him. 

Not waiting for a greeting or an invitation, Michael strips himself of his shirt and makes his way to the bedroom, almost losing his footing when he sees Luke completely naked, stretched out on his back, four fingers deep, brow furrowed in frustration. It’s a sight to behold, and Michael wonders for a moment if Luke would let him take a picture but then Luke’s moaning out his name, and standing still isn’t an option. 

“ _ Fuck _ , baby,” he praises, climbing onto the the bed and trying to lie next to Luke. “You’re so fucking  _ hot _ .” He tries for a kiss but Luke jerks his head away before they can make contact. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, out of breath. “You too.” He’s pushes Michael off of him and turns around on the bed so he’s on his knees. “Get inside me.” 

The demand is hot, and Michael wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. “ _ Baby _ . What’s, what are - ”

“ _ Michael _ ,” he all but growls. “I need you to shut up and  _ fuck _ me.” 

“Right.” Michael rolls off the mattress and takes his pants and boxers off, pulling them down in one motion.

When he climbs into the bed for the second time, grabbing the lube from where it was left abandoned next to the left side pillow, he notices Luke’s kneeling parallel to the wall, and his hands are white-knuckled around the top of the headboard. 

“You ready?” he asks as he slips behind Luke on the bed. Luke only nods, knees shifting apart as he does. Michael spreads the lube on his dick and grips Luke’s hip with his free hand before sliding in.

Obviously, Luke had been at it for a while before Michael showed up, because as he’s pushing in, Luke opens up for him. There’s no uncertain moment, no wondering if he’s moving too fast or too roughly, just a welcome warmth and Luke’s relieved moan, a high melody wetting the air in front of them. 

He’s all the way in, bottomed out and shuddering through the sudden, easy pressure around his cock. It’s not even a full breath before Luke’s getting impatient, clenching around Michael, hips pressing back with a huff. 

When he realizes how tightly he’s gripping Luke’s waist, he eases up, not wanting to bruise the pale skin, and places his other hand on the headboard next to Luke’s. He pulls out until it’s just the head inside, and then sinks back in, relishing in the velvet pull of his soulmate. It feels like Michael was made to be inside of him, and  _ fuck _ , he really was. 

“You always feel so good,” Michael breathes into the skin behind Luke’s ear, enjoying the slow glide of their wet skin together. “Perfect for me.” 

Luke grunts, slamming backwards as Michael thrusts forward, demanding for it to come “ _ Harder _ ,” and Michael obliges, feeling an odd, pleasurable twist in his gut at being told what to do, on being told how to fuck Luke, like he’s not doing enough and needs instruction. 

His hand squeezes at Luke’s waist, not caring that it may sting, and secretly hoping it spurs Luke on to tell him what to do again. 

The pace stays slow, but each time he slides back in, he puts a bit more force behind it. It feels like enough, feels like they’re going somewhere, but then Luke’s biting out another, “ _ Harder _ ,” between clenched teeth, and Michael realizes he has to work for it more. 

More force this time, using the grip his has on Luke’s skin to pull him back against him. He tries working his hips, changing their angle, hoping to hit the spot turns Luke to putty each time, but the slow pace can’t last long, Michael knows, so he’s working on a deadline. He uses his thumb to have Luke curve his spine a bit, to stick his ass out, higher, and he works from there. 

He bends his knees even more and begins thrusting upwards, his back curling with each drive, sending a small prayer to the Fates when Luke cries out as the tip of Michael’s dick brushes his prostate. 

“Fa- _ aster _ ,” Luke pleads, words coming out feather light compared to his previous demands. As much as Michael likes the rough tone of Luke’s voice, seeing him so affected makes the blue on his arm pulse much more intensely. 

Michael picks up his pace, making sure to keep his angle, if only to hear the sweet song Luke’s singing with his moans, to hear the siren calling as he begs for “ _ More _ ,” and then Michael kicks it up a notch. 

He’s thrusting at a brutal pace, skin slapping together, the headboard banging against the wall as little ‘ _ uh, uh, uh _ ’s fall from Luke’s lips, too far gone to beg for anything else, so Michael gives him everything he has. 

Sensing the end, Michael reaches down, gets a hand around Luke’s wet cock, and strokes it. It only takes four pulls before Luke’s hand is  _ slamming _ against the wall, the smack of it sharp enough that Michael wonders if he’s cracked the plaster. It’s not a moment later that Luke’s cumming with a cry, and Michael wonders what the fuck he ever did to deserve a soulmate so fucking incredible. 

As Luke’s hitting his high, his walls squeeze impossibly tight around Michael’s length, and it’s only a few more thrusts before he’s following Luke, climaxing inside of his soulmate, nails scraping harshly against Luke’s hip. 

As they come down, neither moves, just sitting, prolonging the absolute peace that accompanies getting off together, before Michael begins to feel gross and pulls out, groaning as he watches a drop of cum slide down the back of Luke’s thigh. 

“Why aren’t we always doing that?” he asks, not meaning to let the words slip out, but not minding when Luke laughs. 

“It’d lose its novelty.”

And as he watches Luke slowly unclench his fingers from the headboard, body flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his hair a mess and thighs getting sticky with Michael’s release, he has to disagree. “I don’t think it would, baby.” 

Luke falls on his back, exhaling loudly as he does, and Michael takes his open body as an invitation to cuddle into his chest, feeling strangely clingy after what they’d just done, and begins tracing patterns on his chest. 

“Thank you,” Luke says, not letting the silence run too long between them. Michael wants to live forever in the tone of his voice. “I’m sorry you had to miss class.”

“Not a single regret on my end,” Michael teases, looking up to grin at his soulmate. Luke smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it feels wrong after how good everything just was. “You alright, Lukey?”

“Never better,” he breathes, and Michael knows that it’s not the whole truth. He doesn’t say anything. “You’re so good to me, Mikey. So  _ good _ .” Michael laughs, and then Luke’s hand comes down to pet through the strands of Michael’s hair, and Michael melts into it. “I don’t know what the world did to deserve you, but I’m glad I’ve got you.” 

They’ve  _ truly _ grown together, Michael thinks. And of course things are still a struggle between them, but looking around, he doesn’t think it’s either of them. There’s something  _ missing _ , and Michael begins to wonder if it’s time to take things a bit further. Maybe they just need some stability. 

It’s a special night. 

Only five days after Michael initially had the thought of taking things to the next step, he finds himself with a square box in his pocket, ready to risk all of their progress with one question. It’s what they need to get out of this limbo of incomplete. 

He’s made dinner to ease into the conversation, not wanting to come out with such an important topic right off the bat. And to avoid something akin to Luke’s taco disaster, Michael just picked up an oven-ready lasagna, and he’s kept a close eye on it all night, only stepping away to light candles on Luke’s small card table and set out his nicer looking dishes. 

It’s a special night. 

Luke comes home from his Friday classes, in sweatpants and a perpetual from, guitar case strapped to his back. He doesn’t notice anything off at first, sliding his guitar off and leaning it against the wall, but when he turns and sees Michael standing next to the table, dinner served, he jumps. 

“Mikey, hi,” he says immediately, worry melting into a smile. “What’re you… What’s the occasion?” He walks over to the table, and Michael pulls him into a kiss, not letting Luke pull away without a bit of tongue first. “Seriously, what did I do to deserve all this?” 

There’s not an ounce of negative energy between them, and Michael feels on top of the world. “I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“You definitely accomplished that,” Luke laughs. He looks at the plate and then his eyes drop down to himself and he frowns. “I’m… Can I get changed? I feel weird in this.”

“No, don’t.” Michael puts his hands up, stopping Luke from turning and heading towards his bedroom. “I love you dressed down. Makes me feel special to see you like that.”

Luke shakes his head, smile trying to hide the blush staining his cheeks as though Michael wouldn’t be able to spot it from a mile away. “You’re too much.”

“And you’re more.” 

They sit at the table, Michael making sure to pull Luke’s chair out for him, and eat. Michael asks him about his day, about his classes and his morning shift at the coffee shop. They tells jokes, and Luke mentions wanting to visit the music store the upcoming weekend to show Michael the new Gibson that reminded him of Michael. 

It’s all domestic, so normal, but so  _ much _ , and Michael wants to make it an everyday thing, wants to see Luke’s cerulean eyes looking across him at the table for the rest of his life. 

So as their forks clink on their empty plates, Michael preaches into his pocket and pushes the square jewelry box across the counter, watching as Luke tracks the movement, mouth dropping at the implication.

_ “Michael _ .” There’s a bite to it, but it only makes Michael laugh. He knows what Luke’s thinking, what he’s expecting to see in the box, but it’s not that. 

“Just open it.” 

With a hesitant hand and narrowed eyes, Luke opens the box. He takes in the object hidden away, eyebrows dropping in confusion. He looks to Michael, and then back at the item, and he pulls it out of its casing. 

With the silver key dangling from his fingers, he wonders, “Did you buy me a car?” and Michael has to laugh. 

“It doesn’t actually go to anything,” he clarifies, gesturing to the key now being placed on the smooth top of the table. “It’s symbolic.”

“Symbolic for what?”

He takes a deep breath and gestures between the two of them. This is it. “For us. I think we should move in together.”

“ _ Michael _ .” It’s not angry this time, but shocked, worried, and Michael bites his tongue against rushing to defend himself. His sensitivity to being questioned has ruined things for them before, and he needs to keep his cool, needs to let Luke speak. “I… I don’t know. I couldn’t even meet your parents, and you think I can just… We can move in together?”

While he knows that the concept of meeting parents was something Luke couldn’t even think about, this is much different. There are no outside factors, nobody else to influence the decision. This is just Luke, Michael, and their Fate. 

When he’s certain Luke’s not going to add more, Michael explains, “We need  _ stability _ , Luke. We’re so chaotic that we’re falling apart, and I’m afraid that we can’t fake it for much longer.” 

“ _ Fake it _ ?” Luke’s face is painted in shock, his tone drowning in incredulity, and Michael thinks maybe it’s not just stability they need, but openness. Honesty. “You think we’re faking it?”

“I think we’re faking being completely happy,” he answers truthfully, refusing to fall into his old ways of burying his feelings. “I think there’s something missing, and - ”

“Something  _ missing _ ?” His voice wavers, and Michael can see water clouding his eyes. He reaches for Luke’s hands but Luke pulls back. “Do you not want me or something?”

Again, just like he thought when they first had it out over ‘differing opinions,’ Michael equates arguing with Luke to talking to an emotional brick wall. “Baby, why would I be asking you to get a place with me if I didn’t want you?” 

“Then why… why are you - ”

“ _ Sometimes _ ,” he emphasizes, feeling guilty for cutting Luke off, but needing to let Luke know how he’s really feeling, needing to be open. “I feel like you’re not honest with me, that I’m not enough for you, and you don’t want to tell me that you need more.”

The tears that were forming in Luke’s eyes finally begin to fall at Michael’s confession. “You think I’m greedy?” 

Michael had expected the sadness, had expected a bit of a fight, but he didn’t expect Luke to veer so far off topic, and the sudden change in direction has his voice raising. “That’s not even what I said, Luke. You’re twisting my words around because you don’t want to answer my question, and you don’t want to open up to me. I’m so fucking - ”

“Can you, um…” Luke wipes at his eyes, but it just smears the dampness across his flushed, porcelain cheeks. “Can you just go?”

He slides the key across the table to Michael, and Michael nods easily, putting it in his pocket. He doesn’t even try to finish explaining himself, to finish telling Luke why he thinks they’re having such a hard time together. It would be a waste of his time. 

So he stands up, leaving the table and leaving Luke’s apartment, not looking back even once. He takes the key sitting in his pocket for the answer that it is: 

No. 

It’s three days of radio silence from Luke before they speak to each other. Again, it’s late at night, only this time it’s a reasonable hour, having just gone nine, and there’s a pounding at the door. Michael doesn’t look through the peephole before he opens it, but maybe if he had, he’d have expected Luke’s sobbing, shaky body to collapse into his arms the moment the door is open. 

Luke’s cuddling into his neck, tears dampening Michael’s skin, and his hands are gripping tightly at the fabric around Michael’s shoulders. He doesn’t explain anything, but Michael holds him through it. There’s no apology, because Luke isn’t going to apologize, but just like the last time they recovered from a bad fight, Michael pulls them over to the bed, and holds Luke through the night. 

In the morning, Luke’s closed off. It feels like it did at the beginning of their relationship, and Michael’s scared he’s closing out. 

But even in the tension, Luke still cuddles him, still holds him. He doesn’t say much at all except for ‘I love you’, and when the words fall from his lips for the first time, Michael doesn’t feel as full of hope and  _ forever _ as he thinks he should. Instead, he’s worrying what could have happened to Luke to make him sound so  _ sad _ at the words. 

Everything comes to light on a Wednesday. 

Michael’s Computer Science class was a bore without his usual partner there keeping him company, and he decided to leave early, go to Luke’s, and spend the afternoon in bed with his soulmate, not worrying about circuit boards or programming malfunctions. 

Luke’s been incredibly sweet lately, clingy in the best way, and it’s so easy for Michael to fall into his arms and run his fingertips across every inch of his body, memorizing it like it’s his favorite view. 

And if he’s being honest, it just might be. 

It’s as he’s tracing patterns on Luke’s chest that he sees something odd. He trails his hand down Luke’s arm, to his hand, just to check that he’s not hallucinating, and his heart breaks into a million little pieces at the sight. 

“Luke?” He asks when he’s managed to find his voice, to  _ breathe _ again. Luke hums in response, not even opening his eyes. At least, until Michael asks, “Why do you have a second soulmark?”

And suddenly Luke’s a lot more awake than before. 

**Author's Note:**

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